By the same author, a double dactyl entitlted
SAID
J. Alfred Prufrock to
Hugh Selwyn Mauberly,
"Whatever happened to
Senlin, ought-nine?"
"One with the passion for
Orientalia?"
"Rather." "Lost track of him."
"Pity." "Design."
I'm gonna go ahead and claim comment 2 since I feel like an unlikely suspect.
Although those were rather a lot funny and rhymey.
Also I'd as soon be Offissa Pup has made me think about the extent to which I don't want to be any Krazy Kat character.
Verses to Exhaust my Stock of Four-letter Words
From the ocean floors, where the necrovores
Of the zoooogenous mud
Fight for their share, to the Andes where
Bullllamas thunder and thud,
And even thence to the heavens, whence
Archchurchmen appear to receive
The shortwave stations of rival nations
Of angels: "Believe! Believe!"
They battle, they battle--poor put-upon cattle,
Each waging, reluctantly,
That punitive war on the disagreeor
Which falls to the disagreeee.
INCIDENT OF THE BLIZZARD OF '81
I left Fat City, toolin' my Coupe de Gras.
I'm givin' them high-hatters the ha ha
Like J. Paul Getty if Getty had been the Shah.
Man with the map of neon in his eyeballs.
Wigwaggin' with a backpack full of Bibles
Next to the scorched blue chassis of a Ford.
Levels a sixpack at me. Swings aboard
And ballyhoos the good news of the Lord
From Cedar Rapids halfway to Grand Island.
Singin' his checkered pastureland is my land.
Settin' the Miller cans up single file and
Mowin' em down like Midianites. Nebraska
Vanished without a trace. No road, no landscape,
Just Kellogg's famous featherweight white breakfast
Shot from the snub-nose silos of the plains.
Seventy per and a prayer in place of chains,
Opens the door and gets out. Shit for brains.
Stunt like that he could pass for Lyndon Baines.
Before he left he spouted some damn doggerel
And handed me six tickets to the Inaugural.
Balls and all. That's how I met Carl Sagan
And got to shake the hand of Nancy Reagan
And heard that stuff about Menachim Begin
I told you back there west of Wichita?
Yeah, I just ordered his selected poems.
There can't be that many published poems mentioning both Grand Island and Cedar Rapids. Not that I can recall much about Cedar Rapids.
But Grand Island probably has a few more hours poems left in it.