This past weekend, I re-watched some episodes of the British Office at Nervo’s house, and oh my sweet Lord, I had forgotten how amazingly hilarious/unbearably horrible to watch that show is. Holy pants.
Most Tuesdays, I share some bad poetry here, but after seeing episode one of the second series, I couldn’t get my mind off of David Brent’s spectacular Excalibur. So, I thought I’d reprint it here.
Half of the poem is in the delivery (and in Dawn’s reaction thereto), but it stands up okay as a read, too. Behold:
by David Brent
i froze your tears and made a dagger
and stabbed it in my cock
it stays there like excalibur
are you my Arthur?
say you are
take this cool dark steeled blade
steal it, sheath it
in your lake
i drown with you to be together
must you breathe?
‘coz I need heaven