Conjugating the verb “to munt”

I’ve finished my experiments with the various conjugations of the verb “to munt”. If you ever watch the Discovery Channel program MythBusters, you’ll know where I’m coming from when I say that this has been one of those “and I do this for a living?!” helpless-giggling experiences. (Tragically, I’ve just spent twenty minutes trying to find the exact quote. And couldn’t. Sigh!)  The poem is completely silly, and not even slightly important. Which is good, because I’ve been getting a bit neurotic (again. Still.) about whether poem-in-progress Y is worth it, is it important, did it need to be written etc etc. And those questions are worth asking, but not until you’ve written the thing and are deciding what to do with it. There’s nothing wrong with five-finger-exercises, as long as you do still employ the skills that go in to making a good poem. Which I guess is a long-winded way of saying that a disposable poem is fine, as long as you treat it seriously in the writing. (To use a topical sporting metaphor: when you practice your serve, you should still concentrate on making the ball land in the court.)

The poem as the current draft stands:

Declining the Real Estate Agent

with apologies to Bill Manhire and the English language

This three bedroom character villa
is munted.

This three bedroom character villa
with great outdoor–indoor flow
was munted.

This three bedroom character villa
with great outdoor–indoor flow,
sunken lounge and water feature
will be munted.

This three bedroom character villa
with great outdoor–indoor flow,
sunken lounge, water feature
and imaginative use of windows
has been munted.

This three bedroom character villa
with great outdoor–indoor flow,
sunken lounge, water feature,
imaginative use of windows,
and gradual split levels, creating interesting ceilings
had been munted.

This three bedroom character villa
with great outdoor–indoor flow,
sunken lounge, water feature,
imaginative use of windows,
gradual split levels and interesting ceilings
has had no expanse spared and
will have been munted.

This three bedroom character villa
with outdoor–indoor flow,
sunken lounge, water feature,
imaginative use of windows,
gradual split levels and interesting ceilings
with no expanse spared
and motivated vendors

is,
was,
will be,
has been,
had been,
and will have been
munted,

and is no longer for sale.

Believe it or not, almost all of the descriptions of the house (which isn’t based on any particular house, in case you’re worried) were lifted from various real estate advertisements. The ‘no expanse spared’ is a particularly glorious Freudian error. (At least, I hope it was an error …)

I’m also hoping that the last long stanza plus punchline ending helps to take the poem beyond being just a game. I guess I’m trying to do two things here – play with the conjugations of ‘munted’, but also pile up the descriptions of the house. I think that last stanza, repeating the various conjugations, anchors both of those aspects of the poem more coherently – without them you wouldn’t be aware of the modifications to the verb, and would only hear the accumulating descriptions.

I’ve decided against reading it at the Putting Words to the Feelings session next weekend. In part because I was a little worried it might come across as condescending, or poking fun at people who are dealing with all sorts of grief regarding the government’s Red Zone buyouts. I’m going to go with another poem written at the same time (and in a fairly similar style) as a bit of light relief at the end of what may otherwise be a pretty grim reading. (What poem? Come along and see!) (Well, hear.)

Did I mention that I’m also a bit nervous about the appropriateness or otherwise of reading the earthquake-esque portion of “The City and the City” in Christchurch, to people who are dealing with this every day?

I know, I know – neurotic. But I’m a poet! What did you expect? Rational‽