Monday, March 5, 2012

The Proprietor of the Paradise Inn


Tainted goods? My apologies 

But they weren’t always spoiled— 
They went off when 

I caught them in the pantry 
With their pants down, eating 

Rotten apples.

3 comments:

  1. They were right about these things, the Old Masters. The loose belts in Paradise thing, that is.

    (Makes the breathing easier.)

    And from this chasm, with ceaseless turmoil seething,
    As if this earth in fast thick pants were breathing,
    A mighty fountain momently was forced...

    ReplyDelete
  2. I've heard a light tincture of opium helps to loosen things when the going gets heavy.

    ReplyDelete
  3. Now it can be told. The stately pleasure dome was actually the glorified enclosure of a water closet. (And as we know, those confined private precincts -- like poetic phantasy itself, for that matter -- are always stateless.)

    ReplyDelete

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