well, I tell you
man, when he
get a notion
to sing he got to
do just that,
and that is what
he do
good, you got that?
new old kid on the blog, with an occasional old or new poem written off the old writer's block
Thursday, June 24, 2010
Wednesday, June 23, 2010
Poetic Criteria
From what I hear,
It sounds like some cry
Baby prodding critic shedding
A crock of tears
Over the decrepit
Still twitching body
Of Jiminy.
It sounds like some cry
Baby prodding critic shedding
A crock of tears
Over the decrepit
Still twitching body
Of Jiminy.
Tuesday, June 22, 2010
The Grim Reaper Leaves
An Optimistic Calling Card
Hi, Claude Hopper—
Sorry to hear you were out plowing
The poor-yielding lower forty when I called,
Better luck next year.
Hi, Claude Hopper—
Sorry to hear you were out plowing
The poor-yielding lower forty when I called,
Better luck next year.
Sunday, June 20, 2010
Dichotomies of a Lesser God
If it is not good that so much evil exists,
Is it not evil to think even less
Of the opposite?
Is it not evil to think even less
Of the opposite?
Definitely Not Lemmings #21
A very warm welcome to Jim Murdoch for coming on board. Believe me, if you want to know the truth about lies, there's no better place to look than his blog!
Saturday, June 19, 2010
Scenes of the Crime
ZICL (Zambaras Institute for the Corruption of Language aka Zambaras School of English). The perfect spot for executing what aspires to pass as passable composition, whether it be fiction, non-fiction or (egad!) piddling poesy masquerading as profundity.
The "Milk and Honey" House. The poet's chief hideout and inner sanctum. Witnesses are kindly requested to focus on the fireplace, the existence of which makes it child's play to destroy any incriminating evidence, i.e the stacks of earlier drafts of poetry which, if found by literary ghouls after the poet has departed the scene, will certainly be used against him when he is put on postmortem trial for debasing the currency.
Friday, June 18, 2010
Bukofsky Strikes Again
There is and there is not
A right way to write
A poem—
Which is like saying
Excuse me if I'm wrong but
Would it be all right
If I just say “Fuck it”?
A right way to write
A poem—
Which is like saying
Excuse me if I'm wrong but
Would it be all right
If I just say “Fuck it”?
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