As a cohort, we have agreed to take one narrative on a journey through various styles. Today, the Cucumber saga continues as we delve into the world of live Slack performance. The following is a transcript from a guerrilla poetry experience that was neither asked for, expected, appreciated, admired or enjoyed. A studious group of Boaters were lambasted with an unequaled lyrical prowess that dragged the journey of our fabled Cucumber further into the darkness.

Chip & Duncan will now guide you through the early middle age of our protagonist in the style of gin-soaked slack poetry. Enjoy.

7:40 PM Duncan Clark: Or a small back and forth poem about the cucumber?

7:42 PM Duncan Clark: Whose pockets were filled with his plunder

7:57 PM Duncan Clark: Only through one of his eyes could he see

8:06 PM Duncan Clark: When drinking his rum, he left only the dregs

8:20 PM Duncan Clark: His life was rife with afflictions

8:27 PM Duncan Clark: Sniffs of speed for a burst

8:30 PM Duncan Clark: Both nostrils stuffed

8:36 PM Duncan Clark: Grams of ketamine demolished

8:45 PM Duncan Clark: Skewers of questionable meat he impaled

8:47 PM Duncan Clark: Until one day the tide turned

8:55 PM Duncan Clark: His marriage was over

8:58 PM Duncan Clark: His gaze resting on the bottle, as he realised it was over

9:01 PM Duncan Clark: All he could picture, was his mother covered in Flora

9:03 PM Duncan Clark: His conscience was purple

9:10 PM Duncan Clark: including his children, whose faces were purple

9:15 PM Duncan Clark: 5Is, 3Es and one purple

9:56 PM Duncan Clark: The moral of the story…..Purple