Not Enough Lemon on the Lemon Chicken

Ah well, I tried anyway!

So I didn't post every day.

And one of my posts was lame and stuff. I'll make up for it...I'll make up for it right here and now by writing a poem about the first nown...first verb...and first two adjectives that pop up on a page when I "I'm feeling lucky" search for "Clap board" on Google. Here goes...

Noun=Clapboard
Verb=using
Adjectives=finest, professional

14 line sonnet...aaaaand GO

The Innocent Clapboard

Clapboard, you with wooden clappers striped on a hinge
always in motion as the sun rises and sets, on film
often you're marking the call that makes the crew twinge
then movement falling hollow on false floors and doors
the world bends to see whatever will happen to them
happily parted, or shot, or loving each other more.

Clapboards never act as though they can't see it coming
mattering not, cut from the shot and thus forgot
by countless spectators worldwide, dazed in chairs
Even the one who snaps it there, using it on the back lot
won't notice the light soaked dreams before him aren't breathing air
what human can, with imagination burning hot?

How professional are we who craft the finest lies
and sell a ticket that, with a spirit, dies?

How's that for trippy? If this poem makes you angry in it's lameness just leave me an angry comment. See Ya!