HORS D’OEUVRES IN BABYLON“Dost thou think, because thou art virtuous, there shall be no more cakes and ale?... Yes, by Saint Anne; and ginger shall be hot i’ the mouth too.”1.There’s the ouroborosOr Irish elver, succored and suckled On its very own tail, the walrusWho swallowed the oyster, mostLoyal pal, ogled, guzzled and gobbled Her down, till the wall of her fundamental Mother-of-pearl lisped weakly From its froth of broth-waterAnd all this dribbled, star by star,2.Into her night liquor jar, patiently Cellared until worthy Spiritus Mundi, Which he quaffed, ignoble bugger, Though he gagged and coughed, butNice try, Anonymous, no kell. Kells is a place with a famousMonastery and cathedral, a moatFull of salty, hard-titted Mermaids, their spell-binding3. Drawbridges cased in iridescentSequins which lift with scornFor the accomplishment, their slither And incessant whisper, Mene Tekel Upharsin, (You have been weighed!) Maddening to Nebuchadnezzar, Who fell to his knees and ate grass, Get it? Slapping and flopping Their fish-hips as if splitting 4.Solomon’s twot-contested Little Israeli, red as a strawberryFrom strewn, not hay turned gray,Or straw, tart and cleaving itselfWith a moist, mute gasp So it could be cloven and cleaveUntil the wet eye of it wereWild as the sky for a moment,Ruby blue, if not a whole minute.
I make it so easy for you, don't I?
MUTUAL DURANCEIt’s all to the good, the lovely,Tra-la-la lovely, but blinding Spectacle-hood of female ontology,Which re-invents society’s aptitudeFor a civilized epistemologyTo recompense its servitude to vileAnd mortal biology. Take my daughter,As Roger Dangerfield, dear departedClone of Henny YoungmanMight have offered, closer to fortyThan when she performed With the local Youth SymphonyStoned for joy or boredom: otherViolin bows descendedWhenever her’s rose, and thenAt the supermarket, where we’d goneTo purchase a brick of low-fatIce cream–no wonder she was bored–For a treat and reward, she was abruptly Busted for concealing a cigarette pack,And bawled, being vulnerableAnd sweet, then as today, her heartWide open, her mind Completely secret.
RODNEY DANGERFIELDAs John Keats was heard To cough and murmur,"But who was stouter,Cortez or Balboa?"
What an excellent daughter poem, though I must say--low-fat ice cream? Worst reward ever, and I, for one, would have bitten you.
DINNER WITH SLOBBER NOSTRIL The elephant’s prehensile grip Tipping crab apples as if life Depended on extractOf ruby bitterness Or meerschaum peanuts Transported with swift, shameless Awkwardness to get cracked In its fumble chew And mumbling, thin-lippedHairiness, its needs Mammoth, its equanimity bored And murderous, you’d rather Lick strawberry juiceAnd not mess with it.
Have a delicious holiday, resident genius. I will return taller and older.
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