Friday, 5 April 2013

NaPoWriMo - Day 5 - Lightly Seared on the Reality Grill

Yesterday's prompt was to write a poem whose title is the name of one of Iain M Banks' fictitious spaceships.  There were lots to choose from - and I may well keep some in reserve for future efforts.  But for the moment, I will settle for this one:


LIGHTLY SEARED ON THE REALITY GRILL

Mount Everest isn’t the tallest mountain in the world.
Rickshaws and fortune cookies weren’t invented by the Chinese.
Baseball wasn’t invented by the Americans.
Chicken Tikka Masala wasn’t invented in India.
You can’t see the Great Wall of China from the Moon.
Marie-Antoinette didn’t say “Let them eat cake”.
Coffee is not made from beans.
Strawberries are not berries.
Horatio Nelson never wore an eye-patch.
Moths are not attracted to flames.
Ostriches don’t bury their heads in the sand.
The “thumbs-up” sign didn’t indicate mercy for a defeated gladiator.
The original marathon runner didn’t run 26 miles.
The Canary Islands aren’t named after birds.
Bugs Bunny and Brer Rabbit aren’t rabbits.
Burke and Hare were not grave-robbers.
Violin strings are not made of catgut.
And Mozart’s middle name wasn’t Amadeus.

But then, why let boring hard facts get in the way of a good theory?

(with grateful thanks to The QI Book of General Ignorance

3 comments:

  1. RECENT CONVERT

    "Banks"y writes on walls
    Graffiti or art? Andy sits
    and scrawls. Iain M. Banks
    is ill now - in time to come
    Iain Banks's crime novels' heroes
    will be dumb. 'Til then, they and
    the Culture will stand out. A writer's
    finis should make the reader shout.

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