Get Your Premium Membership

Conference to Elicit Joy

A conference for four hundred and twenty-five I was the only one extremely open and alive Met a guy with a badge who claimed name of Fred After trying to converse, realized he was dull as dead. Woman named Nama was the next one I was to meet. Extremely boring, brought her husband flaccid Pete. They hold this conference to give us joy and jive. Four hundred peons, I may be the only one still alive. I wanted to spark a little vitalizing, sparkling happy fun. No other participant was on board with this, not a single one. A conference that was advertised to revitalize us with joy. It was a bust, you can ask my gadabout Uncle Roy. He whispered in my ear, let’s blow this place! We had to drag gram out, she was a disgrace. She farted and burped, also threw up her lunch. Making their conference a tad better, maybe a whole bunch.

Copyright © | Year Posted 2021




Post Comments

Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem.

Please Login to post a comment

Date: 7/21/2021 1:34:00 PM
This is funny, Caren. I used to despise going to conferences, knowing they would be a bust and a total waste of time, but having to toe the line. Ugh!
Login to Reply