Sonnet Sunday: Guest Poet Dweebler Cramden

Today our sonnet is supplied by my cousin, Dweebler A. Cramden, bio below.


Saline Sonnet

If you have only half an urge, don't pee
if you must needs visit a public place,
for public bathrooms pressure publicly
and if you cannot squirt, you may lose face.
You may believe your bladder's sore to burst
as the yellow push grows ever stronger
but mark my words, take time to be sure first
or you may stand humiliated longer.
The ego suffers when you must pretend
and flush a toilet full of unstained water;
"'Tis better," you say, "'Tis better to make an end
than stand there while my cheeks are flushing hotter!"
You hypocrite! Although a wasted trip,
you flush as if it weren't and calmly zip.


---Dweebler A. Cramden

"I can't believe everyone believes they're just as important as I am."


Bio:

Prior to becoming a used car salesman, Dweebler A. Cramden ('A' is for Asshole) served as general toadie to Neil Diamond, thinking himself too ugly for anything but middle-aged ass, in the hopes of borrowing some of the Master's (King and Boss were taken) magnetism. But being only a toadie, he was stuck with the roadies' discards, which means his groupies rarely weighed less than three hundred pounds, roughly the size of an Alaskan Halibut. Still, Dweebler maintains that "fat is where it's at" since Reubeneschatology predicts such females to be as indulgent of him as they are of food. And without going into mechanics, Dweebler insists his harem ("my bonny whales") have much more to offer than the pseudo-voodoo-phony-boobjob-skinny-plastic-blonde types others pursue. Besides (he reminds us), big girl's boobs are almost always bigger, and real to boot, since breasts are mainly fat, as are buns and all the other soft parts. It's just a question of the skin quality which overlies them. If beauty is only skin deep, surely his treasured cephaloblimps have more of it, since their skin is indubitably deeper. But enough of this detour into his private lipoloungelizard life.

As for his literary career, Dweebler has been rejected by every earthly magazine at least once, but he is extremely proud of his publication in RealPoetik, that microsecond of fame that made it all worthwhile.

Before he discovered the financial advantages of the web, Dweebler feared his commissions on used Yugos could never match his postage habit, so he received treatment through a forty-step program called "Rejections Anonymous." He is happy to report that (one day at a time) he now resists the urge to mail poems to Poetry and respects their once-a-year submission limit Nazipoeticpolicy. Dweebler just celebrated three days of submitobriety! His favorite writers are Kilgore Trout, Susan Polis Schultz and Hugh Prather. You can write him c/o Dr. Chaffin.