The next time you sit down to write Something mind-blowing right
Off the top of your head, Take what’s left
Of your brains with you.
Moderator’s comments: What a relief! Our resident gadfly had been out of sight and out of mind so long that I was ready to abandon all hope of ever hearing from him again, so you can understand how elated I was when I received another one of his delicious little gems. With this one in particular, without his resorting to overblown poetic hyperbole, we can see how Huuk has hit the proverbial nail on the head once more and demonstrated how futile it is to have your artistic cake and eat it too—unless the poet in question has enough smarts left over to return to his senses before he suffers irreversible damage to his powerful albeit very misguided “inspirational” ego by overshooting it.
“the fingers on the rim, as the poet put it.” —George Seferis, Mythistorema #2*
The wild fig tree that has put down roots Deep in its depths and taken over The well’s mouth tells us no more Wishing here—the ropes have broken And the grooves on its lip serve
To remind us those lines of maidens Who pulled up pail after pail of water Year after year have long since departed, And where once there was nubile skittery, Domesticated stony silence is all we hear.
*The “poet” referred to is Dionysios Solomos,
and the phrase cited is from his prose work,
The Woman of Zakynthos, Chap.I.