Ode to a Selfie by K Rudd (as tweeted to Stuart McCullough)

Gazing on my own reflection
With loving, naked, pure affection
I must have been a touch distracted
As the steel on skin impacted
Cos in an instant, before I knew it
I was well and truly skewered
Trickling blood, a crimson creek
It struck me dumb, I could not speak!

Gazing on my own reflection

With loving, naked, pure affection

 I must have been a touch distracted

 As the steel on skin impacted

 Cos in an instant, before I knew it

 I was well and truly skewered

Trickling blood, a crimson creek

It struck me dumb, I could not speak!

 

 Yes with the blood upon my cheek

 I didn’t cry, I did not shriek

 I tore a tiny piece of Sorbent

 Thought, ‘Perfect time to take a portrait’

 For though I’d cut myself whilst shaving

 I thought the moment one worth saving

 I saved it, yes, so I could prove

 That if I’m cut I bleed, like you

 

 And in that awe-inspiring moment

 Where I chose to mobile phone it

 I did not turn to get a bandage

 But turned it to my own advantage

 For I’ve had many wounds before

 In bathrooms and on Caucus floor

 And with a click the deed was done

 Soon to be seen by everyone

 

 I took this wounded face of mine

 And put the image up online

 Where it got a million hits

 I tweeted it to all the twits!

 I shoved it up on Instagram

 To show the world all that I am

 (Sure, for some, it would have grated

 But mystique’s sorely overrated)

 

 I did it without fear or favour

 Just so you could sit and savour

 Some say in exasperation

 ‘This is too much information!’

 But I think those folks are mistaken

 So take this picture I have taken

 Of me and my shaving cut

 Behold, my friends, my bloodied nut!

 

 Some may claim that it’s unhealthy

 For a man to send a selfie

 To more than a million folks

 And cause them on their toast to choke

 Confronted with my bloodied image

 Haunted by my beaming visage

 I did it not to cause you fear

 But to remind you all I’m here

 

 Mirror, mirror on the wall

 Who can resist the siren’s call?

 Of joy and love and pure devotion

 That comes along with self-promotion

 The shock was not that I had nicked it

 But that the wound was self inflicted

 So now I’ve shared the razor’s nip

 That’s all from me – I’ve gotta zip

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