fr_defenestrato: (imagine)

Thanks to Joe L— of the great state of Catatonia for le lien.
fr_defenestrato: (Default)
Yes, Poetry Month is on its way out and, as I feel the need to do every now and again, I insist you read/re-read this poem:

Lana Turner has collapsed!
by Frank O'Hara

Lana Turner has collapsed!
I was trotting along and suddenly
it started raining and snowing
and you said it was hailing
but hailing hits you on the head
hard so it was really snowing and
raining and I was in such a hurry
to meet you but the traffic
was acting exactly like the sky
and suddenly I see a headline
there is no snow in Hollywood
there is no rain in California
I have been to lots of parties
and acted perfectly disgraceful
but I never actually collapsed
oh Lana Turner we love you get up
fr_defenestrato: (britches)
I promised to respond in verse. So:

Q: How does one gain an audience with Thee? How can one bask in Thy greatness?

Admittance to Oz's great throne
Was a cinch as compared with my own:
But my guard at the gate
Can be made to deflate
If you throw him the right kind of bone.

Go to, sirrah. Our greatness, indeed! Heehee. We are duly flattered.

If you're visiting D.C., just holla and we shall summon you for dinner or sechlike.

Q: How do you introduce yourself to someone you meet for the first time?

In social situations, I will smile
and shake the person's hand (a solid grip
to demonstrate my grunting manhood) while
his/her name, stealthy, serpentine, will slip
and slither from my brain into the void.
Each meeting is a panic, just contained:
though life is such that one cannot avoid
these things, I'd rather everyone refrained
and forged new friendships medias in res!
But as regards self-presentation, I
bestill my tongue, forgoing to supply
my vitals, save when one elects to press
for them. The formula is static: 'Hi,
I'm Gordon.' 'Jordan?' 'Gordon.' 'Gordon?' 'Yes.'

Q: Ha ha! Just to be a jerk, I'll ask you another question: how do you stand yourself, being so smart, talented and good-looking?

Oh, ask me a hard one.

Answer: I don't.

Follow-up Q: You have to answer in verse. Or in the form of a question, Alex.

Well! I beg your pard one.

Answer I won't!

Q: Will you Love me? Will you love me forever? Do you need me? Will you never leave me? Will you make me so happy or the rest of my life? Will you take me away? Will you make me your wife? I gotta know right now. Before we go any further. Will you love me? Will you love me forever?

A: [Full disclosure: edited since first posted]
I didn't know you cared! One ersatz girl,
At call, awake, comin' up! Didn't we
Agree the name of Gordon Geise (that's me),
While lovely, doesn't have the mad'ning twirl
Or attitude of 'Dummy Lovelit Anally'?

[The above verse is a precise anagram of:

I couldn't take it any longer; Lord, I was crazed,
And when the feeling came upon me like a tidal wave
I started swearing to my god and on my mother's grave
That I would love you till the end of time.

Check it if you don't believe me.]
fr_defenestrato: (banana)
I seriously don't quite know what to make of the fact that the only questions anyone has asked in response to my initial invitation were from three of the people I've known the longest time IRL and who know more than almost anybody about me. But I'll ask again:

March is Question Month. Ask me anything you want to know and I'll try to answer in verse.
fr_defenestrato: (Default)
Remark this hill. As come and gone
Have pudgy, flightless waterfowl
In droves, so Scheidt stands thereupon
And thinks himself an owl.

There does he ponder owlishly
The ranks of mice who've squirmed within
His talons, flights of majesty,
Rodential gifts to win.

Then enters, left, one brownish mouse
With jarlish name of Fortescue
In coversation to espouse
Who would the mouse enstew.

"O ye of feather, 'tis but I
Of fur who joins thee here ahill.
I marvel that you stand and sigh,
Perhaps for dreams that you can fly:
A shame 'tis not your skill."

"I mark thy valor, rodent-thing,"
Thus Scheidt does condescent to speak.
"I take thy mockery to wing:
More purpose is there than to sing
Within this owly beak."

Here laughs the mouse a while or two
And growls the ruffled Scheidt the same.
"'Tis glee to find the penguin who
Would riddle gentle Fortescue
In such diverting game!"

So gaily smitten is our mouse
He does not see his new friend Scheidt
Has stiffened like a ruffèd grouse
And turned three shades of white.

"Forgive me, sir! I thought you might
A penguin be. The subtle glow
Of early evening's amber light,
Or my walruscan apptite
Hath seen thine owlness so."

"The devil damn thy dirty jest!"
Roars Scheidt, awash in fear and hate.
"These razors ripped thy father's breast
In twain—begone, foul rodent, lest
Ye meet a sim'lar fate!"

Here from the meeting seems to flee
Its humor; here the mouse reflects
Upon the bird's identity:
'Tis madness, he suspects.

The mouse begins to speak at length
Of genus, family, order, class,
of wingspan, weight, and size and strength,
Of snow and ice and grass.

"You are a penguin, as I stand;
That much is plain. And I should guess
You came to this green, temperate land
By way of some performing band...
From Northern Jersey, yes?"

"HOBOKEN!" screeches Scheidt with rage.
"O fiend, prepare to meet thy doom!"
But as he does his foe engage,
He faces an ornithophage,
And soon the walrus-mouse ribcage
Is his owl-penguin tomb.

And Fortesque, as failing sun
Casts shadow on late summer's dome,
Sings to himself, the chosen one,
And wends his way back home.
fr_defenestrato: (Default)
Is cowlesville a botkins? collagen
between katie her poetry cadjacent
And well predatory, she occurred
A freelandville to juda. But what vehicle
was on dingus? Or the merrimac
was myself? luna Have in explanation:
so be abnormal; do corner the proud
Or sensitive dissection override.
Of sobriquet whichever kellerman.
Of sapiens who verdi, Of ourselves
Is blenker. Not the stadium. you are
very beatifull, Smegma17
My stream You must create a new instance
every time you want to perform a task.

(ok, so i tweaked it very slightly to make it scan better as iambs. and of course the puncuation is mine.)


fr_defenestrato: (Default)

February 2015

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