Monday, July 14, 2014

I mock appliances and then go all meta on them

In which we confess to blatant alphabetical manipulations

Hips don't lie so I'm won't either; I had to construct a word for the frig magnet poem for Monday. Why would you call a frig poem kit the 'Poet Version' and not have the word 'poem' in it? How's a post-modern bad-frig-poet supposed to get meta? So, yea: I MADE what I needed. I either have to rein in that tendency or buy some more kits.

Let's add a little punctuation just for the fun of it:

Words Laugh

Yet a poem lives,
naked, vast, sacred, open:
This thing is wild work.

Since we're not lying tonight, hips or otherwise, I'll admit: Love that last line.

Bonne fĂȘte!, my French friends. For my English readers reader, Happy Bastille Day! Although a French person would never say that, as I learned today by reading French Morning. By my blog header you know how I feel about La Belle France, so let's help celebrate, much as I did during my one day in Paris -- you know, when we had that meal of shame at the Louvre?

Vive la France

Arise children of the fatherland / The day of glory has arrived / Against us tyranny's / Bloody standard is raised / Listen to the sound in the fields / The howling of these fearsome soldiers / They are coming into our midst / To cut the throats of your sons and consorts

Whoa. Makes the 'rockets red glare' seem downright pacifist.

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