The Sleight-Of-Hand Man

It doesn’t make sense—

We had almost no light left,

So this guy runs out and flies

Back into twilight before

We knew he had left.

Keeping the Rednecks on the Edge of Their Seats

We’ll be back with the latest breaking

Commercials after this short break

For the news, so you-all better

Be here when we get back,

D’ya hear?

Phil Levine (PLOTUS) and Madrona's Invitational Issue

While reading Joe Hutchison's recent

post about Phil Levine, I was reminded that the new Poet Laureate of the US was among the poets who generously agreed to send us something for Madrona's 1972 invitational issue. Other poets included w.j. higginson, Tomas Tranströmer translated by Robery Bly, William Stafford, Richard Hugo, James Merrill, Alan Dugan, Eve Triem, David Ignatow, David Wagoner, William Matchett, Beth Bentley, James Humphrey, Donald Finkel, Paul Zimmer and David Young, plus contributions from all three of the magazine’s editors.

Levine not only sent us the artfully handwritten poem above but also included a photograph of the woman he said he was in love with at that time. I assume Levine remembers the woman but wouldn’t it be nice to think he also remembers the magazine and the poem accompanying her picture?

Bird in the Bush

You can hedge

All you want

But I bet that bald

Eagle won’t be there when

You put your money

Where your beak was.

A Vazambam Exclusive: Incredibly Virtuoso Hellenic Rat Hurdles Another Language Barrier!

Believe it or not, this linguistically gifted, high-achiever of a mighty big mouse jumped from LOWER level to HIGHER—an ordeal usually requiring anywhere from 180 to 360 classroom teaching hours—after only 60 hours of intensive language instruction at one of the many RAT RACE SCHOOLS OF ENGLISH that have overrun the private language school sector in Greece—how did he perform that difficult task, you might ask. Elementary, my dears—He bamboozled his teachers by pretending English was not all Greek to him!

[Transcript of teacher instructing pupil] OK, Let’s try it again. C’mon buddy, there you go, eh, there you go, jump up again, c’mon!

NB: The few language schools that have remained loyal to cherished old teaching methods are now using the following poem as a stopgap teaching aid and rallying cry to ward off any more assaults on their turf. Suffice to say, these language schools—including the Zambara School of English—admit only cats, or in case English is all Greek to you—γάτες!

THAT’S ALL SHE WROTE, FOLKS!

(A 5-ACT TRAGIC FARCE FOR LANGUAGE SCHOOLS)

1.

The saucy mouse said tit,

The sassy rat said tat;

Seductive in the kitchen,

Lady de la Roquefort, sitting pat.

2.

The gnawing was ferocious,

The dame delicious, too;

Enamored with their gnawing,

They gnawed till they were bleu.

(A classic case of biting off

More than you can chew.)

No sign of consternation, no inkling of chagrin,

No reining in of hubris—O overweening sin!

(By Zeus! Such uninvited cheeky din

Was doomed to do our duo in.)

3.

His catnap abruptly truncated by the ruckus,

Our couch potato Tom exclaimed:

Sounds like hocus-pocus woke us!

With drat and drat and double-drat,

That’s quite enough of this and that,

He went gumshoeing to the kitchen.

4.

Zounds!

Brazen raiding scoundrels out-of-bounds

Ravishing our Lady Roquefort!

To arms! To arms!

5.

And with that, dear students,

His Tommy gun reverberated—

Ratta-tat-tat!

Cut the knaves down

To modest wedges,

Just like that.