Month: April 2005

  • Vachel Lindsay:


    Two Old Crows


    Two old crows sat on a fence rail
    Two old crows sat on a fence rail,
    Thinking of effect and cause,
    Of weeds and flowers
    And nature’s laws.
    One of them muttered, one of them stuttered,
    One of them stuttered, one of them muttered,
    Each of them thought far more than he uttered.
    One crow asked the other crow a riddle.
    One crow asked the other crow a riddle:
    The muttering crow
    Asked the stuttering crow,
    “Why does a bee have a sword to his fiddle?
    Why does a bee have a sword to his fiddle?”
    “Bee=cause,” said the other crow,
    “Bee-cause,
    B B B B B B B B B B B B B B B-cause.”
    Just then a bee floew close to their rail: -
    “Buzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz zzzzzzzzz
    zzzzzzzzzzzzzzz ZZZZZZZ.”
    And those two black crows
    Turned pale,
    And away those crows did sail.
    Why?


    B B B B B B B B B B B B B B B-cause


    B B B B B B B B B B B B B B B-cause


    “Buzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz zzzzzzzzz


    zzzzzzzzzzzzzzz ZZZZZZZ.”


     


     


    The Moon’s the North Wind’s Cookie


    by Vachel Lindsay




    The Moon’s the North Wind’s Cookie.


    He bites it, day by day,


    Until there’s but a rim of scraps


    That crumbles all away.


     


    The South Wind is a baker.


    He kneads clouds in his den,


    And bakes a crisp new moon that…greedy


    North… Wind… eats… again!



    I’m having a good time.  fodonald took me to a bidness mixer.  I talked to crazy evelyn and squirted mushroom juice on my shirt.  there was a woman there wearing a tag that had her name and “rehab center” on it.  I had to make a comment about her tag and the fact that she was holding two glasses of wine.  I don’t think fodon will be taking me anywhere in public again.

  • [Fantine is left alone, unemployed and destitute.]



    Fantine:

    There was a time when men were kind

    When their voices were soft

    And their words inviting

    There was a time when love was blind

    And the world was a song

    And the song was exciting

    There was a time

    Then it all went wrong



    I dreamed a dream in times gone by

    When hope was high

    And life worth living

    I dreamed that love would never die

    I dreamed that God would be forgiving

    Then I was young and unafraid

    And dreams were made and used and wasted

    There was no ransom to be paid

    No song unsung

    No wine untasted

    But the tigers come at night

    With their voices soft as thunder

    As they tear your hope apart

    And they turn your dream to shame

    He slept a summer by my side

    He filled my days with endless wonder

    He took my childhood in his stride

    But he was gone when autumn came

    And still I dream he’ll come to me

    That we’ll live the years together

    But there are dreams that cannot be

    And there are storms we cannot weather

    I had a dream my life would be

    So much different from this hell I’m living

    So different now from what it seemed

    Now life has killed

    The dream I dreamed.


    Incommunicado


    months and months ago VM told me I should place a personal ad stating who I am, not what I wanted.  she said I should say, “very needy, cries a lot.”  it should probably have also said, “doesn’t listen to good advice; learns everything the hard way.”


    I don’t know how to ask for what I need.
    I know that you can’t get what you don’t ask for.
    it’s still hard.
    I need to be needed.
    I need to know I am valued.
    it seems like there’s never a good time to ask.
    …and someone might say no.
    I guess that’s not a very good reason.


    the pod said to me
    when it ended
    that “it’s just too hard to love you.”
    I guess it is.


    I used to just be needy and cry
    now I’m too needy, I cry
    AND I throw up.
    I don’t see where that’s a huge improvement.
    smirk… sniff… sob…
    BLEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEAH.