Sunday, September 20, 2015

Compiling This Landmark Anthology of Poetry in English about Dogs and Musical Instruments Is Like Swimming through Bricks




  • Shazam, just bought. Ticket offer remains.
  • I've deliberately not paid attention - is the culture battle over gay doritos over?
  • Tom's latest - Szymborska on political meaning.
  • Our feral, lying, good-for-nothing media.
  • The rationality of rage.
  • Cultural misappropriation.
  • Maggie's weekly links.
  • { feuilleton }'s weekly links.
  • Cats should be seen and not herded.
  • This is true: RIP Jackie Collins, had a book signing at Crown Books 817 the second day I was manager and the day I met Earthgirl. Of all the book signings, other than Matt Groening, Jackie Collins was the nicest author - most were bored fucks.
  • There is no theory of everything.
  • Norman Westberg has a new album coming.
  • Played 27 yesterday at Seneca 333444344 334443333 354533343, so yay me (those I did lose a leopard in the salad right of 22 fairway). Leaving shortly to long circuit Sugarloaf with Earthgirl, so yay me. Almost done with a poem about the theory of everything by way of a fat man in a bow tie, so be warned. I did exorcise the line a bow tie on a fat man is not disqualifying like a fedora on anybody disqualifies the fuck.







INQUIRY INTO THE NATURE AND CAUSES OF THE WEALTH OF NATIONS

Simon Armitage

Compiling this landmark anthology of poetry in English
about dogs and musical instruments is like swimming through bricks.
To date, I have only, “On the Death of Mrs. McTuesday’s Pug,
Killed by a Falling Piano,” a somewhat obvious choice.
True, an Aeolian harp whispers alluringly
in the background of the anonymous sonnet, “The Huntsman’s
      Hound,”
but beyond that — silence.

I should resist this degrading donkey-work in favor of my own
      writing,
wherein contentment surely lies.
But A. Smith stares smugly from the reverse of the twenty pound
      note,
and when my bank manager guffaws,
small particles of saliva stream like a meteor shower
through the infinity of dark space
between his world and mine.



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