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In Digestion
Posted: Tue May 12, 2015 12:09 am
by Sideways
fake poets, wearing "I can't write" jeans, sliding in grease along a stage constructed from their own wooden cliches, dead from the top of the head upwards, these people shall inherit the earthworm.
Re: In Digestion
Posted: Tue May 12, 2015 2:31 pm
by Boss
I haven't worn jeans in five years. I hung them on your stage, the one bulging in your ego. If you hadn't looked, and I know you would never let down that guard, but the operation is underway. And be sure, though I like earthworms, the inheritance is a whole lot more. There is no golden prize, only love. And even Leonard sang that.
Re: In Digestion
Posted: Tue May 12, 2015 7:10 pm
by Sideways
Dylan died yesterday. Nothing else matters
Re: In Digestion
Posted: Wed May 13, 2015 12:27 am
by Boss
Come with us
Re: In Digestion
Posted: Wed May 13, 2015 2:48 am
by Cate
Sideways wrote:Dylan died yesterday. Nothing else matters
I'm so sorry my dear friend - he seemed like such a good dog and I'm so sorry that he's had to leave you and all of the people who loved him.
Re: In Digestion
Posted: Wed May 13, 2015 3:54 am
by Boss
I'm sorry, too. I didn't know.
Re: In Digestion
Posted: Thu May 14, 2015 12:05 pm
by dar
Sideways,
Your lines reminded me of another old poem I found in my storage boxes:
She bounces through the day now
in her size 18 “I’M PUBLISHED” T-shirt,
stretched bum-tight right above her bulbous double-knees.
Only invested $70 in the anthology to see
her one verse on Page 443.
No one can take their eyes off of her
and they all agree
That’s one proud “poet” in motion.
Re: In Digestion
Posted: Thu May 14, 2015 11:09 pm
by Cate
Sideways wrote:fake poets, wearing "I can't write" jeans, sliding in grease along a stage constructed from their own wooden cliches,
I like the image going on here as well as the bite. I like the idea of the poet as a carpenter hammering together pieces of wooden cliches, to form a stage as opposed to a cross - he can keep his earthworms though.
I can't help but think of "all the lousy little poets/ coming round/tryin' to sound like Charlie Manson", probably because I'm on a Leonard Cohen page.
dar wrote:Your lines reminded me of another old poem I found in my storage boxes:
She bounces through the day now
in her size 18 “I’M PUBLISHED” T-shirt,
stretched bum-tight right above her bulbous double-knees.
Only invested $70 in the anthology to see
her one verse on Page 443.
No one can take their eyes off of her
and they all agree
That’s one proud “poet” in motion.
That's a very likable picture of a proud poet, I can't keep from smiling when I read it.