Inspiration: My only poem ever

Internet slander (well, libel, I suppose) for one such as I, coming from people who don’t know me, can be disheartening. It can also be quite amusing, as in the instance of this forum exchange someone linked to me on Twitter.  A quick google search done by someone else on Twitter revealed that there is indeed a poetry-espousing Lindsay Ellis somewhere out there on the Internet.  Unfortunately, it isn’t me; the only things I’m running right now are a facebook page, my twitter and of course this blog (which I fail at).

It got me thinking, though, and I do recall that I DID write one poem in my short little life. After digging through my hard drive, I found it, and I have to say I’m still quite proud of it.  It was inspired by the Child ballads, folk songs collected by one Mr. Child in England at some point in history (my details were a lot less fuzzy when I was in college. Which I failed at.)  I was very into Child ballads at the time because of their connection to Irish folk music.  With that, I wrote a Child ballad about the dorm room I shared at NYU on Broadway and 10th Street with one Nella Inserra; it, like many dorm rooms, smelled like unwashed ass.  I wrote it just before the end of the semester, as we said our tearful goodbye to the room.

So I bequeath to you my bad poetry of yore, Internet. I hope you enjoy. College dorms should never have carpet. For any reason.


The Room What Smells of Ass

The Poem by Lindsay Ellis © 2004

What to do, what to do, upon stepping in
to the heavily unventilated room
For this room it doth truly smell like ass
and my nostril it doth consume!

We know not why, said the two residents,
Why this assy smell doth be
But what can be done, if in our power
to possibly appease thee?

Anything, anything, just make the smell go
Does this smell come from thee?
From where does it come, know you this?
Do you nothing? How can this be?

Be it the dirty clothes, the garbage pales,
or perhaps the unwashed sheets?
Be it some rancid food which somehow makes
The smell your nostril greets?

Nay, think we, said the two roommates,
for this hath happened before,
Twas spilled milk on the carpet then,
and perhaps it is that once more.

Do something then, insisted the guest,
for the smell simply won’t pass!
What plan you then to do, roommates,
to this room that smells like ass?

We know not, said they, for the time before
Baking soda on the ground was layed,
But when up it was vacuumed, in the air it went
And it was in the air it stayed.

We could not breath, and everything reeked,
Of powder with a flowery scent
And when it settled, there was no escape;
Into every crack it went.

So little is there for us to do,
Do little though we may
We can do the laundry, we can take out the trash
But still the smell doth stay

Carpet may be a hindrance, said they
And ventilation, there is naught
But always some smell lingers here
And it bothers us quite a lot

And now upon departure’s threshold we stand,
And our little room we do watch
And we clean things out most manfully
Yet still it smells like crotch

And with us you stand, you saw with us
As the year did come and pass
But through it all, change though it did,
It always smelled like ass.


  • ChildISH ballad, amirite, hurrhurrhurr?

    It was very beautiful.

  • Oh god Lindsay, that is terrible! I mean, points for trying, but yikes XD Also, is (which she fails at) your meme now? Because, I can get behind owning that.

  • creaturesh

    I am moved to tears. Befitting, I imagine, as such a room does the same, and now shall continue to do so by virtue of your words.

  • Am F
    What to do, what to do, upon stepping in
    C E
    to the heavily unventilated room
    Am F
    For this room it doth truly smell like ass
    C E
    and my nostril it doth consume!


  • Sandy Schaefer

    Marvelous. It’s Shel Silverstein by way of Charles Bukowski.

  • I’d follow through on that copyright thing you put, just to be safe.
    Also, can you please read “Go The F%#@ to Sleep”? If Samuel L. Jackson and Werner Herzog can do it justice, you can as well.

  • DigitalHamster

    That’s absolutely brilliant.

    (Granted, I’m just a CS major so I don’t know poetry)

  • Josh

    3 out of 5. Not bad, but it needs more comedy.

    Also, Samuel L Jackson reading Go The Fuck To Sleep sucked.

  • Without a doubt, this must be the best poem you ever wrote. 😉

  • Marie

    pure shakespearian
    ps are you and todd in the shadows together? idk im just going off twitter

  • Unwashed nerds can be so hateful. That entire forum exchange stinks of pit stains and loneliness. I actually own Lindsay’s film , “The A Word” and it was not only a powerful film, but objectively well made for a film making stand point.

  • Cori

    I really don’t get why people waste their time writing things like those in this forum. If they don’t like your work, they don’t have to watch your show or your movies or read your blog.
    I know, that has been said many times by many people, but i just can’t stand this.

    I like your videos and i have watched all of the nostalgia chick reviews loving most of them, because you really analyze the problems of a film and don’t just recap the story and lough about it.

    That wasn’t about the topic of your blog post, but it just bothered me to read what was said about you in this forum. People that can’t get over it, that you have a job they would like to have as well, but aren’t good enough to do. Or something like that, but it sounds a lot like they are beeing envious, to me.
    Just wanted to say that.

    And since you learned german:

    Schöne Grüße aus Deutschland.

  • It’s better than the one poem I ever wrote which was really just a flowery tirade against the girl who had cheated on my (at the time) best friend.

  • I will see your poem about a room that smells of ass, and raise you a poem about toast:


    and a poem/song about Ned Ryerson.


  • Brad

    I’m damned impressed, actually, first of all that you’ve even *heard* of the Child Ballads, and secondly that you tried to emulate them. And that it actually worked pretty well, no less.

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