I was never really interested to Moe Szyslak, the famous bartender of Springfield. He's just this character who owns a bar, almost rude to everyone else..he's funny but I didn't know there's so much depth to his character until I watched the sixth episode from this season. When Homer forgot to go fishing with Moe for his birthday, Moe sent this letter:
Dear Pus Bag,
Birthdays never meant squat to me.
Then you offered to take me fishing,
And like a stumble bum chump,
I dared to hope.
But you shattered my dreams
Like a duff tall boy in a bar brawl,
And you jammed the jagged neck
Right up my heart's butt.
I guess I just wasn't meant to be happy, or handsome
Or anything really.
Poetry. Yes. Who would have thought of Moe as a writer? So Lisa helped Moe to "unleash" his poetic side. Lisa arranged Moe's written phrases that are just posted in his apartment, and even gave a title for the poem:
Howling like a Concrete Moon
My soul smells like a dead pigeon after three weeks,
I shut my window and go to sleep.
In my dream, I eat corn with my eyes.
Short but substantial. Of course, Homer does not want to be left out and shows his own "creation" as well.
I wrapped a rapping tomato.
That's right a rapping tomato.
I wrapped all day from April to May.
And guess what, it was me.
That's right a rapping tomato.
I wrapped all day from April to May.
And guess what, it was me.
Heehee. =) I still find Homer adorable though. =) Haha..who would have thought that poetry can be part of the show. But I like the last part of the episode the most. Apparently, he wanted to be acknowledged alone in making the poem which made Lisa so upset. So Moe made a poem to apologize for his actions.
Ode to Liza
Pointy-headed mini-muse
More friend that I deserved,
You pulled me from the dirt,
And made me the beautiful flower that I am.
But some flowers can stab you in the back.
For which I should send you flowers,
Which I will, but they were closed.
You will be getting them tomorrow.
Ode to Liza
Pointy-headed mini-muse
More friend that I deserved,
You pulled me from the dirt,
And made me the beautiful flower that I am.
But some flowers can stab you in the back.
For which I should send you flowers,
Which I will, but they were closed.
You will be getting them tomorrow.