Da Pope
I saw da Pope in da back
of a Cajun restaurant
He was spinning, with hot sauce and two
French women at his side
He was swearing in Polish,
yelling for more wine
I asked the waitress what his problem was
She said he was a regular
A holy pain in the ass
He blessed the place though
The owner thought it was great for business
To have da Pope as a regular
The restaurant got some publicity out of it
But da Pope brought a bunch of crazies
Always hanging around, trying to get healed
Never buying a good damn entre like a proper God fearing citizen should do
The waitstaff especially hated da Pope she said
He never tipped
only made the sign of the cross
muttering, some holy helldevil stuff
telling them hed pray for them
Theyd all go to heaven, for sure
But he never tossed down a dime
And no waitress she knew ever fed her family on prayers
**
SONGS MY MOTHER HATED:
SHORT FICTION SET TO MUSIC
I and iamsick are putting together a book of short stories - called Songs My Mother Hated: Short Fiction set to Music - all containing a single favotite song lyric. We are now in the process of activly accepting submissions, - we are unfortunately not paying authors immediately, but everyone will share in the book's profits.
The basic rules are simple, find a song lyric, write a story based around it. ideally the lyric should fit into the story seamlessly, so that unless you recognized the lyric you wouldn't know it wasn't just another part of the story. the word count has to be 500 to 1200 words and include in your submissions a short bio of yourself, the name of the song, the artist and the album, as well as your contact information. make sure all submissions are sent to both cdgetz@hotmail.com and rainermaria@hotmail.com. the deadline for submissions is Nov. 1 for a Christmas publication. So start moving, also feel free to forward this email to as many writers as you wish, we need a lot of stories.
Mike Hammer
New Orleans, LA
rainermaria@hotmail.com
440.821.6675
**
I saw da Pope in da back
of a Cajun restaurant
He was spinning, with hot sauce and two
French women at his side
He was swearing in Polish,
yelling for more wine
I asked the waitress what his problem was
She said he was a regular
A holy pain in the ass
He blessed the place though
The owner thought it was great for business
To have da Pope as a regular
The restaurant got some publicity out of it
But da Pope brought a bunch of crazies
Always hanging around, trying to get healed
Never buying a good damn entre like a proper God fearing citizen should do
The waitstaff especially hated da Pope she said
He never tipped
only made the sign of the cross
muttering, some holy helldevil stuff
telling them hed pray for them
Theyd all go to heaven, for sure
But he never tossed down a dime
And no waitress she knew ever fed her family on prayers
**
SONGS MY MOTHER HATED:
SHORT FICTION SET TO MUSIC
I and iamsick are putting together a book of short stories - called Songs My Mother Hated: Short Fiction set to Music - all containing a single favotite song lyric. We are now in the process of activly accepting submissions, - we are unfortunately not paying authors immediately, but everyone will share in the book's profits.
The basic rules are simple, find a song lyric, write a story based around it. ideally the lyric should fit into the story seamlessly, so that unless you recognized the lyric you wouldn't know it wasn't just another part of the story. the word count has to be 500 to 1200 words and include in your submissions a short bio of yourself, the name of the song, the artist and the album, as well as your contact information. make sure all submissions are sent to both cdgetz@hotmail.com and rainermaria@hotmail.com. the deadline for submissions is Nov. 1 for a Christmas publication. So start moving, also feel free to forward this email to as many writers as you wish, we need a lot of stories.
Mike Hammer
New Orleans, LA
rainermaria@hotmail.com
440.821.6675
**