February 5, 2023
by Brenda Softbrick, The Bricklyn Eagle’s Culture & History correspondent, with support from Samantha B. Fortune, Health & Science correspondent
Summary of Article ➤ Brickman “private” poems on donuts and croissants found on street outside Bricklyn Eagle offices. Brickman offers explanation for his “doggerel.”
This reporter on arriving at work this morning was given two pieces of paper by Groundskeeper Willie. As Willie explained: “Ah fun thae twa papers ootdoors this mornin’ as ah wis daein’ mah roonds. Ah didnae ken if thay wur overflowing fae yer office’s wee trashcan. Ah brought tae yer affice as ah wasn’t sure if ye wanted thaim.” 📍
📍As Simpson fans know Groundskeeper Willie has a strong Scottish accent. Here he’s describing how he found two papers on the street this morning while he was making his rounds, and brought them to The Eagle’s offices as he wasn’t sure whether or not they were meant for the trash. [Scottish translation using scotranslate.] For those not familiar with Bricklyn’s history, Willie came here in 2020 as part of the surprising relocation of the Simpson family and friends from Springfield to Bricklyn. See Bricklyn FAQ #5.
In examining the papers, I immediately realized they were written by our editor and reporter, Walt Brickman, as I’m familiar with his handwriting.
Our paper in its reporting has sought to be an objective and neutral voice in local affairs, and a publication that values journalistic transparency. After consulting with fellow reporter Samantha Fortune, we decided to immediately transcribe and publish the poems in The Eagle online.
As readers will quickly note, the poems touch on the subject of the heated “great debate” in Bricklyn dealing with donuts and croissants.
I located Editor Brickman at his home, just a block from our offices, while he was about to have breakfast. He acknowledged being the author of these poems. As Brickman acknowledged:
“Yes, I was passing time writing that doggerel that Groundskeeper Willie apparently picked up on the sidewalk near our office’s trash can. It is no secret that one of my hobbies is in writing poetry, especially what I hope some will find to be humorous odes.”
Brickman continued, “The poems you found and are printing today, however, were not meant for public distribution or viewing, and I’m not going to say whether or not they represent my personal views about donuts or croissants — views I am not going to share with you or with anyone else.”
As Brickman added: “I do want to say that Groundskeeper Willie did the right thing in bringing the papers back to our office, and I also do not fault you as a reporter for making them public, as they were found on the street, and not through any invasion of my home or office. I own full responsibility for my carelessness in how I discarded these papers.”
The impact, if any, of the disclosure of the Brickman poems on “The Great Donut” debate, and on the rumored opening of a French patisserie, will be seen over the coming days. ✥
Update: Feb. 5, 2023, 9 pm EST. After reading this article, please read the apology & explanation just posted by Walt Brickman.
Here is the text of the two poems Groundskeeper Willie found on the street near the Bricklyn Eagle’s offices.
Oh Donuts So Sweet
transcribed from Walt Brickman handwritten pages
Oh Donuts, sweet confection of the skies,
With frosting swirls and sprinkles bright,
You bring a smile to all who espies,
A simple joy that shines so light.
Your circular form, a perfect sphere,
So pleasing to the eye and soul,
With fluffy dough that’s soft and fair,
And flavors that can make us whole.
Chocolate and glaze, a classic treat,
With frosted flakes that crunch so loud,
Or jelly filled, a burst of sweet,
That dances on the tongue, so proud.
Symbol of our simplest joy and vows
A treat that brings us all together,
A bite of happiness, a day of wows
That makes our hearts feel light as feathers.
So here’s to you, O Donuts, round,
A wonder of the bakery’s art,
May you forever be found,
In every heart and every cart.
Crust of Pain
transcribed from Walt Brickman handwritten pages
O croissant, thou flaky crust of pain,
A treat to eyes, but a cruel disdain.
Thy layers, so delicate, crisp and light,
A false promise of taste, in the morning light.
Oh French pastries, thou art a deceit,
With sweet aroma, thou dost mock and cheat.
Thou art a lie, in disguise so fair,
A guise of delight, hiding true despair.
For as thou art bitten, thy flavor doth fade,
Leaving a bitter, unpleasant taste.
Thy dough, so tough, chewy, hard and dry,
A cruel punishment, with every bite nigh.
Oh croissant, thou art a cruel tease,
A pastry of sorrow, a pastry of fleas.
Thou art not fit for the morning meal,
But a source of frustration, that dost me steal.
So, I say this with a heavy heart,
That thou, croissant, hast played thy part,
In bringing me grief, in bringing me pain,
Thou art the bane of my morning sustenance.
Update: Feb. 5, 2023, 9 pm EST:
