Fame for me, totally free

as long as I sacrifice

dignity.

Just share a house

with some wannabes

No gameplan,

(or none you can see).

What role is for me?

The loudmouth slob?

The warm homemaker

always at the hob?

The geek or the nerd?

The crazy fool?

The camp hetero

or the geezer-bird?

A brash glamour-girl -

in Promotions, she says -

becomes my best mate

till we nominate.

We're joined at the face

for two whole days,

then she whispers in nooks

with the vegan one.

I could always bond

with the underdog

and stick as close

as a wheel with a cog.

But at what cost

if the Great British Public

turn against him?

We'd both be lost.

If I start a fight

then kiss the cook

use the 'n' word

so the public complain,

I'd be thrown out

and lose the game

with a guarantee

of five-minute fame.

RATE THIS CHAPTER!

Author guidance for This poem

Big Brother is currently on UK TV (its 10th series) and I'm glued to it, as usual.

Write a poem (or prose if you like) about reality TV shows, talent shows, celebrities doing things they're not famous for, fly-on-the-wall documentaries, docu-soaps.

You know the kind of thing...

updated Jun 24 '09 by Tasha_Noble