Between
every musical act/presentation/etc. at the Saturday night Cabaret, one or more of these charming verse
forms submitted by you, the squeezers of NESI, are read by the M.C.
Alas, last year's literary event was, well, sort of pathetic. Of course,
they sounded much better in the delirium of the Cabaret Night.
Anyway, we need more
entries this year! Think about it and even write some out
legibly before you come. Free-reed players have been shown to be
the
most intelligent, most creative, wittiest people among the general adult
population (Psychology Someday Magazine, August 1932). Prove it! Your
entry needs to conform to standard limerick or haiku structure
(syllables of 5-7-5), and it must refer to free reeds in some way. The
rest is up to you! In the future, the winning and runner-up in each
category will be posted on the NESI website, so you may be immurtlelized
(or something). There will be a tired old (and
retired) concertina at NESI with a slot in one end to receive your offerings. This year, the
grand prize is a 3" tall replica of the Winged Victory of Samothrace
playing a Bandoneon cast in gen-u-wine artificial imitation Polly's
ester. As they say, you must be present to win, and you must submit your deathless verse by 3PM on Saturday...
Some past high-scoring ones:
| A lady who plays a Chemnitzer Just cannot find one that fits her. On the pull it's okay But I'm sorry to say That the push -- well, it nearly de-tits her. | I wonder if this is a joke – I can't play klezmer, Cajun, or folk! All the tunes from my box Sound like Johann S. Bach's – I think that the darn thing's baroque! |
| There was a young man from Kildare,
Who was boffing his girl on the stairs, The banister broke, But he doubled his stroke And finished her off in mid-air |
There was a young man from Kildare On the stairs, playing air after air Well, the banister broke, So he doubled his stroke And finished the tune in mid-air |
| Man goes into a 7-11 in a bad part of town,
carefully locks up his car to safeguard his accordion. He comes out to find his windows smashed and THREE accordions in the car | A man going into a 7-11
Locked his truck with accordions seven On return, windows smashed He saw, quite gob-smacked, Accordions eleventy-leven |