My poem: Mister Goby: gen

[stonepicnicking_okapi]

My own list poem based on Chapter 12 of Agatha Christie's After the Funeral. Mister Goby was my favorite part of the book.

Objects in the Room Mister Goby Looks at Rather than Hercule Poirot by okapi

[left-hand corner of the chromium-plated fireplace curb]
Mister Goby is a small and spare and shrunken man,
[electric plug socket] an information agent
who protests education and finds fault [lampshade]
with the youth of today. [cushion on a sofa]
[left cuff] he consults a scrubby little notebook. he licks
[radiator] a finger and turns a page, rubs a nose.
[door] he winks, nods, shakes a head, so like a furnishing,
so non-descript [patent leather shoe] as not to be there.

Comments

[smallhobbit]

I like that!

[stonepicnicking_okapi]

I don't know why I find that scene in the book so funny but I do. I re-read it several times to write the poem and it just cracks me up that Mister Goby is giving his report and addressing all the furniture instead of the person in front of him! Thank you!