Thursday, March 31, 2011

Doggerelist

We mustn't call it poetry
Lest poets take offense
We dare not call it balladry--
That simply makes no sense
We cannot call it lyric verse
That label, too, falls flat--
I've heard some call it doggerel...

Well, I can live with that.


Ok, so I have a bit of an issue with Calvin Trillin. He is "The Nation's Deadline Poet", drawing the inspiration for his verses from the headlines of the day. Dammit, I finally find my perfect job, and someone has it already. And there's only one.

He even has a book out--"Deadline Poet,or, My Life As A Doggerelist".

That's right. He calls himself a doggerelist.

Check and mate, Mr. Trillin. You may call yourself a doggerelist. Other people call me a doggerelist. Yeah, that's right. It's a dictionary. I'm in a dictionary. Of sorts. Kinda. And I am example #2 of "doggerelist".

So there.





Wait, really? "Doggerelist" isn't a compliment?

Hmph.

5 comments:

shellity said...

You have the public service position of Digital Cuttlefish. And there is only one. You just need a pay rise.

Melissa said...

What's funny is that I find your poetry far better than many published poets (including all the profs I had during my creative writing degree).

And shellity is right about the pay raise. I've been plugging your book, but I don't know many people right now with extra cash.

seanahan said...

Isaac Asimov referred to much of his poetry as doggerel. He may not be a "poet", but he wrote a lot of great stuff. Who can forget, "In memory yet green, in joy still felt, the scenes of life rise sharply into view. We triumph, time's disasters are undealt, and while all else is old, the world is new." So you're in good company with the Good Doctor.

Monado, FCD said...

Versifier?

Bill Dauphin said...

seanahan:

Re Asimov's poetry, I used to have a (now long-lost) book of limericks that were the result of a contest between Asimov and the poet John Ciardi. If any form is "doggerel," the limerick would be it... but Ciardi took the contest seriously, and many of the resulting limerick (his and Asimov's) transcended the apparent triviality of the form to achieve the depth of true poetry.

Of course, being limericks, many of them were also absolutely filthy. A few were both deep and filthy (which actually sounds kind of filthy itself, come to think of it...).