Wednesday, May 6, 2015
I can’t help but comment on a few things that tickle my fancy.
I get a kick out of her show and the show she puts on.
The ultimate prosecutor.
The bad ass inquisitor, who will shoot you down in a NY minute, if you don’t support her theories or her show:
Twist and shout! Blast you out!
And at 959pm, her horns sink into the twilight, while her voice softens in the moonlight:
“Until tomorrow, Good night Friend.”
What a hoot!
So you get disgusted with TV and you decide to get into the poetry:
What is this hype over a red wheel barrow?
so much depends
a red wheel
glazed with rain
beside the white
Hey, William Carlos Williams, is that all you have to say?
And he replies:
I have eaten
that were in
the icebox and which
you were probably
they were delicious
and so cold
And I reflect on white chicken and cold plums
and saunter up to the bar
asking for another double.
What are you wearing, friend?
A white chicken hat
while eating a cold plum
and pretending to understand what the hell William Carlos Williams really meant?
After all, he lived in New Jersey, where I met my husband
Who traveled with his goat until he became an old one
Eating his curds and whey, until a spider bit his ass and carried him away
To a mystical place where goats ran wild
Sitting at the bar, wishing you all a good night