Once Upon a Dork & Rubbery Night. Chapter One

After "Jabbernoir e Lychee Whine" Gemnastics and Benito attempted to collaborate on several other Jabbernoir pieces, none of which they were completely happy with, and the collaboration, for the time, died.

Meanwhile, Benito continued to experiment with the style. He decided to use the form of the verse novel, which he had success with in "Her, Leaving, as the Acid hits" (Independence Jones Guerilla Press, 2004), and the character Napoleon Hangover who had been the protagonist of a play he wrote for a production at The Studio at The Sydney Opera House as well as of a radio serial he wrote for FBI-94.5FM, and of an earlier unpublished verse novel "I'll Always Remember You Fondling."

Whether or not it's poetry is debatable, as is whether or not it's any good, but if nothing else it's fun to write, so...



Once Upon a Dork & Rubbery Night…
(A Prose Poem Verse Novel In Jabbernoir, or
An Attempt at The Silliest Book Ever Written.)

By Benito Di Fonzo

1.
It was a dork and rubbery night, and the clouds slipped across the sky like retarded postmen. I was wrapped up in a little Italian rat skin number, and my feet where bare and ready for attention.

No sooner had I walked out the door than a Warpsman clump wubbled with a swift sling of his rip to my rear. I shabbled to my spindling feet and sambad towards the door frame, gently nestling my brain Jackie O style between my bristling thrumb and forefingers. I could see this was to be a norbulous trip.

“Hey swanker” roared the Warpsmen, “lay off the glasse cherries or the ocra-pus splits, dig!”

“Sure fling postulate” I garbled sufficently, “I’m just a leadbelly trying to grab a grift, a grifter trying to seal a sermon for posterity, a surly man’s handbag, trying to get brine through life, so lay off the bump and hustle would you – peas?”

He bit me again, and then pulled a tightly rolled edition of the Johannesburg Yellow Pages from an inner sleeve. That must have knocked me fredo, for all I remember is the canary blur of it flying towards me, with a flump and cring. I was dripped.