A guide is necessary in a strange place ; such the world is — a wilderness where there are bad roads, few wells, storms of sand arise, and the dread of robbers.
see, he’s the proud possessor of a twelve-inch snake
a tiger, or a brown, perhaps
but, more likely, a benign carpet variety
pink and friendly.
he says he’d like to ‘pull it out
and whack it on their table’
to shock them from their myth-making
talk of his anatomy.
penis envy, sibling style
by Liz Hall-Downs
Something will have gone out of us as a people
if we ever let the remaining wilderness be destroyed;
if we permit the last virgin forests to be turned into
comic books and plastic cigarette cases;
if we drive the few remaining members of the wild species
into zoos or to extinction;
if we pollute the last clear air and dirty the last clean streams
and push our paved roads through the last of the silence,
so that never again will Americans be free in their own country
from the noise, the exhausts, the stinks of human and automotive waste.
~ Wallace Stegner,
letter to David E. Pesonen of the Wildland Research Center,
3 December 1960 ~
Poetry and Alcohol
The two of us we have lived together long,
she sits in the kitchen watching Brazilian soaps,
I read TLS which gives me an edge even though I think some of the stuff is effete and some of the famous writers and painters are totally overvalued.
I do catch a glance of the TV in the living room from
time to time, a nature program that irritates me, the
Australian hero is actually worrying the wild animals and I hope he will be bitten by a crocodile, or trampled by an irate elephant. No such luck.
Andrew Motion wrote something about oral poetry,
I appeared once at poetry venue, nervously drank
too much, and insulted the organizer. Wish the TLS
would adopt me. Really! But like late George Best,
I’m a loose cannon liable to tell them to fuck off
Jan Oskar Hansen