Sinister: Don't put your eggs all in one bastard

Laura Llew lleweth at xxx.com
Mon Jan 15 03:10:56 GMT 2001


Well, I'll be damned. (If I'm lucky.) I turn my head for nary a second and 
if the list hasn't been overtaken by knasty knitters. Once again, I must go 
on a crocheting crusade and this time without the trusty Ree who is far too 
distracted while in England. I know y'all curl up with your knitting 
kneedles and think of yourselves as all twee and grandmotherly. All the 
while Madame Defarge is lurking inside. Do you know knitting's tainted 
history? Tricoteuses were Parisian women who attended revolutionary meetings 
and urged the crowds on to greater bloodshed, knitting all the while. I've 
never crocheted a scarf which was a list of people who were to be 
slaughtered. (Of course, now I have a new goal in life...) We might be 
hookers or even the antichrist but at least we aren't little leaches with 
our yarn...

which is why I believe I shall spare lovely Emily's neck and pamper the 
poetry parrot. Within the same breath which she uttered her lovely Sonnet, 
Will Porter (Adonis extraordinaire) mentioned Wallace Stevens. Wally has the 
same birthday as me (which I suppose isn't hard when I have so many. the 
more birthdays i have the more presents I get) Last fall, while I was in 
Hartford Connecticut I took the path which he walked every day from work to 
home which is where he wrote his poetry. It was quite lovely, even if I was 
left as uninspired as when I started. So, I immediately whipped (you'd think 
Proust had entered the picture) out my beloved Christmas gift of Stevens 
collected poems and tried to decide on one. Mmm, I do love 13 ways of 
looking at a blackbird, especially, "I do not know which to prefer: the 
beauty of inflections or the beauty of innuendoes. The blackbird whistling, 
or just after."

However, I didn't get very far before I started hearing Dorothy Parker coo 
to me. Well, it wasn't much of a coo - but I suppose one can't expect much 
from the poet who's been dead 33 years. Plus, when she was alive she smoked 
like a demon. I think I could respond to most of the sinister posts simply 
by quoting Parker.
To JenOwl who was pondering about guys - "Some men break your heart in two, 
Some men fawn and flatter, Some men never look at you; And that cleans up 
the matter."
To IsabelLark who's wondering if she's in love - don't worry its just an 
Unfortunate Coincidence. "By the time you swear you're his, shivering and 
sighing, And he vows his passion is infinite, undying - Lady, make a note of 
this: One of you is lying."
To the students at exam time:    Razors pain you;
	                         Rivers are damp;
			         Acids stain you;
                                 And drugs cause cramp.
				 Guns aren't lawful;
				 Nooses give;
			  	 Gas smells awful;
				 You might as well live.

I'm certainly squeaking the squawk from the parrot. Hey - at least I didn't 
simply put one of the poems about me written by a list member. I could have 
just cut and copied http://www.angelfire.com/indie/badpoetry right here but 
instead you get a dirge for the dead. Here's my actual poem - which is my 
favorite. This one is for Chorine Chris Lampien who I love more than the 
smell of burning leaves in the autumn.

Threnody

Lilacs blossoms just as sweet
Now my heart is shattered.
If I bowled it down the street,
Who's to say it mattered?
If there's one that rode away
What would I be missing?
Lips that taste of tears, they say,
Are the best for kissing.

Eyes that watch the morning star
Seem a little brighter;
Arms held out to darkness are
Usually whiter.
Shall I bar the strolling guest,
Bind my brow with willow?
When, they say, the empty breast
Is the softer pillow?

That a heart falls tinkling down,
Never think it ceases
Every likely lad in town
Gathers up the pieces.
If there's one gone whistling by
Would I let it grieve me?
Let him wonder if I lie;
Let him half believe me.

Lovely. Now, who shall I send the albatross to? The only ancient mariner I 
know of is Captain Ahab. So, the poetry parrot is flying the coop to one of 
my most favorite people ever - Ahab of AOL. I actually wrote him a poem to 
him once - on a sugar packet - in a Denny's - in the middle of the night - 
in Binghamton, New York.

He hasn't come out from under his bed ever since.

Laura
"meeting all of your Laura Llew needs since 1977"

-Thanks to Jan Imgrund we now have an updated new & improved (with a fresh 
lemon scent) Literary List. So go to
dubya dubya dubya dawt I is literate dawt communism 
(http://iodin.tripod.com/litlist.htm)
-- The missing link? http://homepage.mac.com/gwchimp/


*****
In our next edition of Laura Llew's Ramblings --
#Sinister: Satan's Chatroom or The Land of Milk(maaids)& Honey


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