Only a few more days of poetic obligation left, as National Poetry Writing Month will soon give way to May. For today’s offering, we revisit a piece from the first year I took part in the challenge, before finishing out April with all-new works.
The Goops is a book I fondly remember from my childhood, both for being one of the books I first recall reading and for the delightful sing-songy rhythm of the poems, that schooled children in the art of manners. I sure didn’t want to be a Goop!
From the original “Table Manners”:
The Goops they lick their fingers, And the Goops they lick their knives;
They spill their broth on the tablecloth– Oh, they lead disgusting lives!
The Goops they talk while eating, And loud and fast they chew;
And that is why I’m glad that I Am not a Goop–are you?
It occurred to me that this tale could do with an update, and not for children but for the deplorable lack of table manners in our current society, where the need to be connected all the time, ironically enough, causes us to be disconnected from real life.
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