VOGON SOUPSTERS: Gangsters of Poetry!

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Vogon Poetry Poetry Contest by Sotto Poet (placed but did not place)

Resubmitted for reconsideration to Rob Carmack's Screwed XXI Poetry Contest.

poem written on 1/18/2025

Here, at The Restaurant at the End of the Universe,

Poetrysoup is on the menu!

And to save our sacred website, perhaps the world ...

We must entertain and enter vague conspicuous contests
With a true Vogon vocabulary intent on an unworthy saving ...
Or suffer the consequences of eternal annihilation
Perhaps even infinite damnation of one's soul
Through the suffering con consternation of constipation
Sufphfphfpherrrring sassafras spewing smack!
Suckin’ on crack, smack, crackling ass.
Hacking in, ack, phlack, intergalactic gack!
Snack on mo’ smack, mo’ splendiferous crack
Are you listening in? You Peeping Toms of Vogsphere
Ga head, sit next to me, if you please and please do
Ahhhhchoo! ‘Scuse me as I sneeze slobbering goo on you
N feel like pee pee peeing on your too too and DON’T!
Don’t you dare say I was born in a zoo.
A zoological biological infestation of poo
Yeah you! You piece of pestilent phluck!
Listen carefully, you meticulous muck muck
Monstrous manhandling mush mush for brains
Let it rain my rogue ramblings of the vulgar
I gotta bone pickin’ poem to pick with y’all,
With y’all you yucks! Who say yuck yuck yuck
Like it was some masterful grace of critique of good luck
Like the Word is the Sword, our words are like bullets
Shooting squirming screaming squashing lead into gullets
Exfoliating poets forcing their views onto you
The World-Wide Whacky Web can go dark
With worms who pretend to be humans
Exasperating, masquerading
Expressing themselves, exposing themselves
Like extraterresticles with tentacles teasing
Brain stems steaming in a boiling pot of coffee
Melting in a muddy cesspool pfft of humanity
Puking, phew, phonetically correct
Can you con consciously connect with this
This gibbering gibberous spew of goo poo
Chunks o’ calcariferous unconscienced clues
Inflicting this barf into poor daft ears, year after year,
Over the hills, passed numerous black holes,
Got over my fears of frolicking fibbing
Blabbering blubbering, that obviously annoying disorder
Of nerve ending never ending
Hypochondriacal hopelessness of humanity’s
Hubris to keep flicking Vogon vanity back and forth at thee
With all my human inadequacies and quirky quarky qualities
I hit the bong, bon bon bon voyage
Boing! On and on ... and on ... and on .... I go

I’m groin going growing going

... gone.

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