Poem -

THE LAKE WOBEGON EFFECT (A poem dedicated to a plagarist I caught in the act)

THE LAKE WOBEGON EFFECT  (A poem dedicated to a plagarist I caught in the act)

THE LAKE WOBEGON EFFECT

In a cold Northern Minnesota city
There lives a writer named ‘Kristal Leebrick’
Already a published author
With several books to her credit
And a writer for ‘The Park Bugle'
A paper she also edits
Talented Kristal still yearned
For more artistic recognition
So she entered a poetry contest
Called ‘Love Letters, a poem competition'
Sponsored by Minnesota’s favorite pretentious son
‘Garrison Keillor’, the great blue nosed one
Of  the radio series,‘Prairie Home Companion’
After the judges careful deliberation
Of the thousands of submissions  
Kristal’s Leebrick’s poem ‘New year love’
Was their winning selection
Telling a story of her very first kiss
Detailing every aspect of her awkward tryst
With a young lad she met in North Dakota
Her memoir detailed ever iota
Ending her poem with the line
“But I can't remember your name.”
Problem is my dear Kristal Leebrick
I remembered a poem much the same
“Snake Skin Boots”, by the great Felix Dennis
When I heard your poem,
I instantly remembered it
You’re not a poet, my dear Kristal
No, not one bit
You’re nothing more, than just plagiarist
Living in a city of hy-poet-crites

From St. Paul Minnesota; home of many poets, that know very little poetry.

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Comments

author
Janine Wright

Well written & fair play!!!! 

some people eh :/ the cheek of it!x

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author
Kimmy Alan

Janine, I wouldn't have been so angry had she not been awarded this prestigious prize, while Felix Dennis lay dying on his deathbed.  I welcome you or any other member of Cosmofunnel to read Felix's 'Snake Skin Boots' and compare it to Leebricks 'New year's kiss'. Two days after she won the prize another poet was reading to me her work, and before she could finish, I yelled, "Felix, Felix", she thought I was referring to a cartoon cat.  Seriously, St. Paul Minnesota considers itself the Greenwich Village of the North.  Which is one of the reasons I moved here several years ago.  But the St. Paul poetry community is nothing more than a bunch of lily white vanilla VIPs from Velveeta Valley who's poetry is so dry and boring the reader risks contracting diabetes.  Forgive me, I prattle.  But I loved Felix since I was a kid, and his death this past June has given me cause to wonder what the meaning of a true poet is.  On discovering this fraudulent scam, I posted the following on Garrison Keillor's 'Common Good Bookstore' Facebook page, "Poetry without honor, is not poetic, nor is a poet without honor really a poet."

Enough said.

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