Irish
Lit. 101
I am
sixty-nine today, and
what
is there that sixty-nine
can
say? Kavanagh-ed by
Paddy-me-boy
on my trip
to
the old sod in '78.
The
collected shite--a bit of
all-right.
Enjoined myself an
Irish
pound more than with
poems
1-p, Jimminey's sweet
wee
sing-songs. Like "the lank
of a
hank of a she" in the pub
over
there, where 'Eats and
Blarney
and the Borstal Boy
hisself were
short 50-sense
for
another pint of the black
sourse.
Of course. TARRY FLYNN
the
best of the Green Men. Jyice
sayin',
I am.
key
*Patrick
Kavanagh, wrote "John
Bejamin's daughter
is one today/
and
what is there that one can say?"
See
Collected Poems.
*poems
1-p"--Joyce's book of poems
POEMS
PENNYEACH.
*"the
land of a hank..." see James
Thompson,
Collected Poems.
*'Eats--Yeats
*Borstal
boy--Behan
*TARRY
FLYNN--Kavanagh's 2nd novel;
his
first titled THE GREEN MAN.
*Jyice--Joyce.
From
the Rib Comes the Juste
If
God is dead, who killed Him?
Or
did God ever even exist?
Everything
made itself through
a
series of phenomena, natchural.
The
bang and agglutination of
solar
systems; the sun, and the
planets,
Luna--bio-chemical
mysterium
and poof! LIFE as
we
know it. Out of a dirty pool,
sprung--like
Roberta Alden from
the
mud heap of Titusville. No
big
Prime Mover in the deal--
just
the prime--like rib of Adam
$9.99
special, and there you
have
it: Woman. Called "Eve" for
"evening,"
or "even-ing," or
"even-so."
Your yin and yang.
Your
twin and twang. A story full of
Tyson
Fury, signifying nothing. But
why's
it all seem so smart? Smarter
than
Stephen Hawking and Ann
Landers.
Intelligent design or
roll
of the dice?
Memorabilia
Caracalla,
Roman Emperor, was murdered while taking a piss. Sherwood Anderson died after
eating a toothpick. Harry Houdini died after being punched in the stomach (by a
boy). Flannery O'Connor died from lupus. Clyde Griffths died in the electric
chair. Charlie Parker died while watching a juggler on TV. Joe Louis weighed 14
lbs. at birth. Abe Lincoln wore size-14 shoes. Thomas Merton died after being
electrocuted by a wall outlet.
ditty
Gray
tarp 17 miles thick
got
the world in its grip.
Gray
tarp 17 miles thick
makes
me sick
a
tarp so thick, got the
whole
wide world
in
it's grip--
oh
its got the whole world
down
in the hold
of
this sinking ship,
athwart
the grey sea.
Ku
If
Jesus could not make it as prophet he planned on becoming a lifeguard.
What
difference "alcove" and "recess"?
Words
on the Hit List:
albeit
eschew
flapdoodle
flabbergast
kudos
nonplussed
Wayne
F. Burke's poetry has been widely published in print and online (including in
LOTHLORIEN Poetry Journal). He is author of eight published full-length poetry
collections, one short story collection, and 4 works of nonfiction--including
HENRY MILLER, Spirit & Flesh, and BUKOWSKI the Ubermensch, Cyberwit.net.,
publisher. He lives in Vermont (USA).
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