Thursday, September 28, 2006

Lester Smith, Poet

My writer's group, the Alliterates, has a lot of advantages, including a "no-homework" policy, a gathering of like-minded individuals, a mailing list that holds us together though we are in many different locations, and a preference for venues which serve alcohol. It also has our Poet Laureate, Lester Smith,

Lester, like most of the Alliterates, comes out of the ur-matter of the RPG shared worlds of novels and game design, and of late has turned his prodigious abilities to poetry. Which he shares with the rest of us by the mailing list. Sometimes we tweak, we suggest, we critique, and most often we praise. This is one that made me smile, and with his permission, I am sharing it with the larger world:

At first, my boy, they're always fascinating.
Each fresh new face conceals a mystery,
an undiscovered personality,
which we spend every week anticipating.
Then, even once the novelty's abating,
there's comfort in familiarity.
At each old joke, we chuckle faithfully
(our sense of humor undiscriminating).
And when, at last, the sameness becomes grating
(or worse, begins to spread a dull ennui),
it's best to terminate them gracefully,
before their antics grow humiliating.
So now you know why God invented death, son.
(Though we can always hope for syndication.)  

--(c) Lester Smith, 25 Sept. 2005

I think Lester's work is getting better all the time, and if you're interested, you can find more of it at Popcorn Press.

More later,