tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34876486.post7773994431880405836..comments2024-02-17T01:47:17.207-08:00Comments on Emperor of Ice-Cream Cakes: Poems Are Jokes: BLUBBERPatricia Lockwoodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05054871173880967520noreply@blogger.comBlogger18125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34876486.post-38008481853006705702007-09-29T20:26:00.000-07:002007-09-29T20:26:00.000-07:00"who mistook/ Her girly-wig site for an interest i..."who mistook/ Her girly-wig site for an interest in HARMONIUM"<BR/><BR/>Zing! Also, "girly-wig"? Whatever that is, I'm guilty as charged.<BR/><BR/>As for your ringing indictment of my lassitude--these things take time, my baby. This kind of realism doesn't come easy.<BR/><BR/>I do love a good ultimatum, though, so thanks for indulging me in that regard.Patricia Lockwoodhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/05054871173880967520noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34876486.post-19803501759271600992007-09-29T20:25:00.000-07:002007-09-29T20:25:00.000-07:00This comment has been removed by the author.Patricia Lockwoodhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/05054871173880967520noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34876486.post-55727377420344146952007-09-29T18:20:00.000-07:002007-09-29T18:20:00.000-07:00BUT MISTRESS TRICIAFilthy, funny, forlorn, but whe...BUT MISTRESS TRICIA<BR/><BR/>Filthy, funny, forlorn, but where’s the choir?<BR/>Joan of Arc’s chevalier, Gilles de Rais or<BR/>Bluebeard, world’s first blogger, stuffed silos <BR/>With boys too eagerly fleeing the laborious <BR/>Mud of reality to ride on the nice man’s <BR/>Moebius race-track of a desirous horse, <BR/>While Porphyria’s blackbird in the woodpile <BR/>Whetted his own perverse remorse on Neil Young’s <BR/><BR/>“Down to the Wire,” or “Tired Eyes,” lines like, <BR/>‘What d’you mean he had bullet holes <BR/>In his mirror?’ Tonight’s the night, and either <BR/>Quixote takes a flier or Tricia resumes weaving <BR/>Weird (it means wayward) art and taunting <BR/>With sauciness that troglodyte who mistook <BR/>Her girly-wig site for an interest in HARMONIUM,<BR/>Hangs out only when marginally welcome.Anonymousnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34876486.post-20296800499208480612007-09-29T12:19:00.000-07:002007-09-29T12:19:00.000-07:00Anonymous! You're not leaving? I was beginning to ...Anonymous! You're not leaving? I was beginning to believe that you were in the possession of bottomless resources.Patricia Lockwoodhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/05054871173880967520noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34876486.post-37601137402028291342007-09-29T08:26:00.000-07:002007-09-29T08:26:00.000-07:00MEN OF GRAVITYThat lollipop who wrote poetryAt my ...MEN OF GRAVITY<BR/><BR/>That lollipop who wrote poetry<BR/>At my daughter’s alternative college<BR/>Was at the pool today, slipping her vanilla <BR/>Accessories into its aseptic <BR/>Emerald clear water. No eye contact,<BR/>Smiling nebulously, I’d say, as if holding<BR/>A card in the booby-prize lottery<BR/>In the moment before the winning number<BR/>Is called, or tolled, tucking the bun<BR/><BR/>Of her quietly matronly hair<BR/>Under her swimming-cap wimple, so that<BR/>Her furred, miniature, underarm hamsters<BR/>Were deployed like wolf decoys,<BR/>But this old troll had already paddled his laps<BR/>And toddled back to the men’s locker<BR/>Whipsawed by the mirrors in that funhouse<BR/>Of gravity and thoughts of jolly folly,<BR/>Male nakedness, sagging and soggy.<BR/><BR/>&etc.<BR/><BR/>FROM A NON-RESIDENT MONSTER<BR/><BR/>I’ve dug a coal and diamond mine with no flues,<BR/>And must report the death of the canary.<BR/>This is from the poison gas which accrues<BR/>From bleak week after week’s dearth of commentary.<BR/>Therefore, ciao for now, all of youse, amigos.<BR/><BR/>Ta ta! Pip pip! Cheerio! Enjoy your jogs to Tipperary.<BR/>Remember what Quixote said to Sancho Panza,<BR/>That goose, when the Don cashed in forever:<BR/>“There are no birds this year <BR/>In last year’s nest, I’m very sorry.”Anonymousnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34876486.post-59376990557216089172007-09-28T06:56:00.000-07:002007-09-28T06:56:00.000-07:00THE PLUMBERAn old lady jammed her garbage dispose-...THE PLUMBER<BR/><BR/>An old lady jammed her garbage dispose-all<BR/>With a banana peel: they use baseball bats<BR/>To unplug these things, which in the business<BR/>Is called a pig. The old bag was starving,<BR/>Her refrigerator bare, but still<BR/>The plumber doesn’t come. Finally she decides<BR/>She’ll run to the store–bologna, American cheese, <BR/>Anything–leaving behind her parrot,<BR/>But naturally, soon as she’s gone, the man<BR/>Soiled with sweat, streaked with pipe grease,<BR/>Arrives and wearily bangs at her door. “Who’s there?”<BR/>Says the parrot in a quavering voice.<BR/>“It’s the plumber!” Say this three times, <BR/><BR/>Louder and shriller. Watch his neck get red.<BR/>See him choke, clutch his chest, fall over<BR/>With a heart attack, just as the old skunk <BR/>In perfumed underwear, comes wheezing<BR/>Up her stairs, sees the open-eyed body lying<BR/>Across her threshold, and can barely gasp, “Who’s there?”<BR/>And now the parrot answers, harsh and indignant,<BR/>“IT’S THE PLUMBER!” At this juncture,<BR/>The pig is unrepaired, while on other fronts, Poetry<BR/>Magazine arrived in the mail. Mary Jo Bang<BR/>Says Alice’s behind, head stuck in the rabbit hole,<BR/>Looks like a stuffed panda. Otherwise,<BR/>As the plumber would say if alive, “What drek!”Anonymousnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34876486.post-32635418717574042922007-09-27T09:20:00.000-07:002007-09-27T09:20:00.000-07:00SEA OF TRANQUILITYHomo sacer means naked human,Nak...SEA OF TRANQUILITY<BR/><BR/>Homo sacer means naked human,<BR/>Naked of law and such protective <BR/>Ideas as inalienable rights: life, liberty<BR/>And the pursuit of happiness,<BR/>In descending order. When Christ<BR/>Was stripped of his garments<BR/>He was homo sacer, likewise<BR/><BR/>Nailed to the cross as if a deer<BR/>Gutted and hung from a tree <BR/>On a legal hunter’s front lawn,<BR/>Crying in Aramaic, curing to leather <BR/>In sunlight on Golgotha, but a deer<BR/>Is venison, love-food, like Christ<BR/>In dread and awe, and divine suffering.Anonymousnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34876486.post-89528531247177812722007-09-26T07:47:00.000-07:002007-09-26T07:47:00.000-07:00BLAME MENPatience creates presence. In Greek Siga ...BLAME MEN<BR/><BR/>Patience creates presence. In Greek <BR/>Siga means slowly, in Bulgarian, now.<BR/>It’s a task for Athena’s original avatars<BR/>Of justice and hell, invoked to punish Orestes, <BR/>Egged on by Electra to murder Clytemnestra<BR/>Their mother. How could you name <BR/>A woman for the clitoris? Well, <BR/>Her lover, Aigisthus, never complained,<BR/><BR/>And her sister, Helen, was named after fire.<BR/>The Furies, flying hens with ferocious beaks,<BR/>Who destroyed Orestes, never considered<BR/>Tormenting Electra, matricidal feelings<BR/>Among women normal, no violation<BR/>Of the higher pieties, siga, siga. What difference <BR/>Does it make, for as Yeats said, big,<BR/>Broken-hearted Agamemnon was dead.Anonymousnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34876486.post-16424948975098874822007-09-25T14:23:00.000-07:002007-09-25T14:23:00.000-07:00GIBBOUSNESS EXPLAINEDIt was all this weekend, that...GIBBOUSNESS EXPLAINED<BR/><BR/>It was all this weekend, that huge and buttery <BR/>Lima-bean moon, too gorgeous by half, <BR/>Lay on its back over Maine and Manhattan<BR/>To gaze at the stars with its face <BR/>And its belly and if YOU weren’t so busy<BR/>Being and achieving a squirt and (you<BR/>Supply the rhyme) you could have watched it wax <BR/><BR/>Into its current, immense and wholesome <BR/>Harvest oval and can guess <BR/>What it was doing to taunt the cosmos <BR/>And a soi-disant but morose<BR/>Master pervert, who was, in point<BR/>Of actual fact, singing the lonesome song<BR/>From Tubby the Tuba to himself and a frog:<BR/><BR/>“Alone am I,<BR/>Me and I together.<BR/>If I went away from me,<BR/>How unha-appy I would be.<BR/>Me and I, oh my.”<BR/><BR/>(Hint: the moon was neither opening windows nor caring a sou for the more oblique gruntlements of Miroslav Krleza, who complained of places smelling like overheated gymnasiums in high schools for girls.)Anonymousnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34876486.post-77716494126040922422007-09-25T12:15:00.000-07:002007-09-25T12:15:00.000-07:00Ana: If all went as planned, you should be able to...Ana: If all went as planned, you should be able to play the piano now also.<BR/><BR/>Anon: "Gnome" is my favorite!<BR/><BR/>Errant: Thank you. As for where the gibbous moon came from, I would give a million dollars to know.Patricia Lockwoodhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/05054871173880967520noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34876486.post-4537817871700534692007-09-25T00:38:00.000-07:002007-09-25T00:38:00.000-07:00p.s. hey, where'd that gibbous moon come from? hmm...p.s. hey, where'd that gibbous moon come from? hmmm.Anonymousnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34876486.post-87997191101254141762007-09-25T00:37:00.000-07:002007-09-25T00:37:00.000-07:00i like this picture. a lot. really? yes. really.i like this picture. a lot. really? yes. really.Anonymousnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34876486.post-29804696830797702812007-09-24T09:22:00.000-07:002007-09-24T09:22:00.000-07:00GIBBOUS MOONChase the animal you love and hate Wit...GIBBOUS MOON<BR/><BR/>Chase the animal you love and hate <BR/>With dogs and a golden arrow. Perversion’s <BR/>An intensification of a truth <BR/>Otherwise biological and bland, even <BR/>The human a cosmetic, a calisthenic. <BR/>Check Pierre Klossowski’s musings<BR/>On the hunting goddess’s response<BR/> <BR/>To Acteon the buffoon’s intrusion <BR/>Into her bathroom–-he too was frenzied<BR/>As a roach-–before reading remorse <BR/>Into October’s gibbous moon,<BR/>When Jason betrayed Medea<BR/>For the touch of another’s golden fleece,<BR/>Klossowski brother of Balthus.Anonymousnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34876486.post-43959744240324503842007-09-24T08:03:00.000-07:002007-09-24T08:03:00.000-07:00GNOME A stubby blonde with small feet, Gets in the...GNOME <BR/><BR/>A stubby blonde with small feet, <BR/>Gets in the lane next to me and swims <BR/>Like a tuna, though without streams <BR/>Of roses or aroma–-which means,<BR/>World of water, earth, aroma, ploughed, <BR/>The ozone of forest garlic, a bouquet<BR/>Of severed nightcrawlers weeping<BR/><BR/>Their mucus into loam. Its kisses <BR/>Taste like devil’s food cake <BR/>For carnivores, no sugar, lipstick <BR/>Or perfume, first thing in the morning <BR/>Or at home, onion so good with tuna, <BR/>Sliced, wrapped in waxpaper<BR/>By my mother, my bread a bulky.Anonymousnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34876486.post-11880982594407942772007-09-24T06:16:00.000-07:002007-09-24T06:16:00.000-07:00I can walk again!I can walk again!Ana Božičevićhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/15963114592979735390noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34876486.post-34142136480230768852007-09-23T21:13:00.000-07:002007-09-23T21:13:00.000-07:00You pay me the highest compliment, steef. My curre...You pay me the highest compliment, steef. My current wallpaper is, of course, that picture of the monkey lovin' on a pigeon, but your porn tempts me.<BR/><BR/>anonymous, I feel increasingly persuaded that you're kind of a master, albeit you reign in a totally perverted sphere.Patricia Lockwoodhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/05054871173880967520noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34876486.post-55622657616755493502007-09-22T14:58:00.000-07:002007-09-22T14:58:00.000-07:00Sweet flapping fugu, that's a beautiful picture! S...Sweet flapping fugu, that's a beautiful picture! Stretches nicely to desktop wallpaper-size, too, though I was loathe to replace my <A HREF="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Dream_of_the_Fisherman's_Wife" REL="nofollow">octopus porn</A>. Rest, and recuperate.steefhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/05853498273361615890noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34876486.post-87975482075971054022007-09-22T11:38:00.000-07:002007-09-22T11:38:00.000-07:00IN THE WOODS Spunky smut is all Muscle and scar,A...IN THE WOODS <BR/><BR/>Spunky smut is all <BR/>Muscle and scar,<BR/>A slap that can leave <BR/>Your cheek burning.<BR/><BR/>Smutty spunk can walk <BR/>Up on front paws, <BR/>And taint you like a skunk <BR/>With vile yearning.<BR/><BR/><BR/>AT SEA <BR/><BR/>An ovulating blowfish<BR/>Tossed a wet red flag<BR/>At a bullheaded carp, whimpering<BR/>“Men are swine!” <BR/><BR/>“Bull, my dear,” boomed <BR/>The bottom feeder, “you smell like<BR/>Shrimp, like caviar, and thank you<BR/>For the wine in the brine.”Anonymousnoreply@blogger.com