Wednesday, March 23, 2022

Much Casual Death Had Drained Away Their Souls

If you donated to WFMU this just finished marathon, thank you, fellow woofmoo
I need a team besides beloved tattooed on my arm. Teams I test-drived for rah
post-apostasy (postapostasy! TRADEMARK) fart but WFMU music (no
accident whatever palette I want DJ preaching less, spinning more) saves me

The moon is the lantern in the abdomen of an insect who wants to fuck
The United States is obsessed with power
The lie of American innocence
Why stop at the Russian shitlords?
Performativity supporting Ukraine
Motherfucking American liberal hawks
Imperial infantilismRank stupidity
Revolutionary math and Democratic dreams
Shitlords shitlords shitlords shitlords shitlords
Sunday equinox blogJUST NOW!
Today in No Fucking Kidding!
How he wrote certain of his books - Borzutsky
Swans and Marnie Stern, I did not say to my brother-in-law's Huh?
I'd buy stock in Call Your Mother if I could
Was reminded Tuesday of the Hecht poem below


Anthony Hecht

Composed in the Tower before his execution
These moving verses, and being brought at that time   
Painfully to the stake, submitted, declaring thus:
“I implore my God to witness that I have made no crime.”

Nor was he forsaken of courage, but the death was horrible,   
The sack of gunpowder failing to ignite.
His legs were blistered sticks on which the black sap   
Bubbled and burst as he howled for the Kindly Light.

And that was but one, and by no means one of the worst;   
Permitted at least his pitiful dignity;
And such as were by made prayers in the name of Christ,   
That shall judge all men, for his soul’s tranquillity.

We move now to outside a German wood.   
Three men are there commanded to dig a hole   
In which the two Jews are ordered to lie down   
And be buried alive by the third, who is a Pole.

Not light from the shrine at Weimar beyond the hill   
Nor light from heaven appeared. But he did refuse.   
A Lüger settled back deeply in its glove.
He was ordered to change places with the Jews.

Much casual death had drained away their souls.   
The thick dirt mounted toward the quivering chin.   
When only the head was exposed the order came   
To dig him out again and to get back in.

No light, no light in the blue Polish eye.
When he finished a riding boot packed down the earth.   
The Lüger hovered lightly in its glove.
He was shot in the belly and in three hours bled to death.

No prayers or incense rose up in those hours
Which grew to be years, and every day came mute   
Ghosts from the ovens, sifting through crisp air,   
And settled upon his eyes in a black soot.


  1. after reading hecht's poem i wanted to know more and found

  2. Serendipity-doo! A story about N-B S-I-L adjacent folks: