Tuesday, March 27, 2007

William Carlos Williams - To Elsie

To Elsie

The pure products of America
go crazy–
mountain folk from Kentucky

or the ribbed north end of
with its isolate lakes and

valleys, its deaf-mutes, thieves
old names
and promiscuity between

devil-may-care men who have taken
to railroading
out of sheer lust of adventure–

and young slatterns, bathed
in filth
from Monday to Saturday

to be tricked out that night
with gauds
from imaginations which have no

peasant traditions to give them
but flutter and flaunt

sheer rags-succumbing without
save numbed terror

under some hedge of choke-cherry
or viburnum-
which they cannot express–

Unless it be that marriage
with a dash of Indian blood

will throw up a girl so desolate
so hemmed round
with disease or murder

that she’ll be rescued by an
reared by the state and

sent out at fifteen to work in
some hard-pressed
house in the suburbs–

some doctor’s family, some Elsie–
voluptuous water
expressing with broken

brain the truth about us–
her great
ungainly hips and flopping breasts

addressed to cheap
and rich young men with fine eyes

as if the earth under our feet
an excrement of some sky

and we degraded prisoners
to hunger until we eat filth

while the imagination strains
after deer
going by fields of goldenrod in

the stifling heat of September
it seems to destroy us

It is only in isolate flecks that
is given off

No one
to witness
and adjust, no one to drive the car

Author: William Carlos Williams
Online Poetry at PoetryFeast.com

Saturday, March 17, 2007

Why did your employees ejaculate into my grandmother's milkshake?

This is just my sense of humour in a Digg post... An actual McDonald's FAQ, according to the Register.

read more | digg story

Thursday, March 15, 2007

How are you/You are Who?

I am OK. I am broke. I am dreaming that I am drunk. I am.

Am I? Am I dreaming, am I drunk? Am I broke? But am I

I am maybe two hundred and forty five thousand euros in assets
more or less disposable
than me.

I am maybe tired, and need to sleep or maybe poor and need to work
before they dispose
of me.

I am maybe in love and uncertainly feeling something
breaking through the
books and
CDs and
car and
and the
weekly shop
that cradle me.

I buy new boots once every 14 months, whether they are required or
I spend some time with my family, but more on the Internet where I can be someone I'm
I shout at the television, and fear no argument, engagement, because the other person is
I am coming through in negatives, a shadow and a cutout, a silhouette, tied up like a series of

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Monday, March 12, 2007

Jolie Holland sings "A Little Rain" by Tom Waits

Beautiful song, sung beautifully.

Jolie Holland rules.

For Mother's Day...

Mr T sings us a valuable lesson.

Think it's time to stop just posting videos and actually do some writing...

Friday, March 09, 2007

Tom Waits Doesn't Wanna Grow Up...

... and neither do I!

Friday, March 02, 2007

Facism is fun!

Australian, but relevant to all of us!

Dreamt for Lightyears in the Belly of a Mountain

Hope Mark Linkaus will forgive me for stealing his title. Just love the phrase. Here's a baby picture.