Vogon poetry

Vogon poetry is of course, the third worst in the universe. The second worst is that of the Asgoths of Crea. During a recitation by their poetmaster Grunthos the Flatulent of his poem "Ode to a Small Lump of Green Putty I Found in my Armpit One Midsummer Morning" four of his audience died of internal haemorraghing and the president of the mid-galactic Arts Knobbling Council survived only by gnawing one of his own legs off. Grunthos was reported to have been "disappointed" by the poem's reception, and was about to embark on a reading of his 12-book epic entitled "My Favourite Bathtime Gurgles" when his own major intestine, in a desperate attempt to save humanity, leapt straight up through his neck and throttled his brain. The very worst poetry of all perished along with its creator, Paul Neil Milne Johnstone[?] of Redbridge[?], in the destruction of the planet Earth. Vogon poetry is mild by comparison.

Listening to it is a similar experience to torture as seen when Arthur Dent and Ford Prefect are forced to listen to the Vogon captain's poetry prior to being thrown out of an airlock[?].

Excerpt:

Oh freddled gruntbuggly,

Thy micturations are to me

As plurdled gabbleblotchits

On a lurgid bee.

Groop, I implore thee, my foonting turlingdromes

And hooptiously drangle me

with crinkly binglewurdles,

Otherwise I will rend thee in the gobberwarts with my blurglecruncheon

See if I don't.

External Link

• BBCi's page on Vogon Poetry (http://www.bbc.co.uk/cult/hitchhikers/guide/poetry.shtml)