Wednesday, December 12, 2018
The Paradox of Language
-There are Stupid
Republican Brutes,
and acid wits, both
saying the same things!
-Thus was it ever. So,
such rot
comes out
in the wash,
okay?
-We’re ashamed
to really watch!
-Shame, like love, is fleeting.
Labels: language, paradox, politics, Republican
Friday, December 07, 2018
Visions of Rape
She imagined it.
Confides Judge to Wifey.
Jesus! Much too close!
Exclaims Innocent One.
Justice
Peruses Always-Drunk-Al,
...has two components:
JUST and ICE.
Labels: Justice, language, opinion, rape, trial
Friday, September 07, 2018
Big Girls Don’t Cry
The phrase,
then the beautiful,
brave aesthetic.
Why we have
phrases first.
Forever continuing
coloring into.
No loveliness without
language?
And yet Time
detaches.
“I feel lost again,”
she finally says.
Labels: aesthetics, language, phrase, time
Thursday, June 28, 2018
Mummies Still Found
No such thing as History.
Rather Continuing Present
kills 6 million Jews
as we speak
of ballscores and
Girls So Pretty
involved in the stands!
Trail of Tears, too, endless.
(Quite short in jollity that!)
Alexander the Great
In Pique
best friend newly murders.
His harrowing regret
remains dangerous
as we tweak
our errands
and calls.
And stores
and parts.
Impossible to sort all
that’s loaded on our carts!
Labels: ego, genocide, grammar, history, Holocaust, language, present, present tense, time
Thursday, June 21, 2018
Speaking Over Time
-What could be new with Your Weirdness? You shifted shapes and even sex.
-Childsplay.
-Oh? The rest of us left gasping in the dust!
-Easy not to be. You’re from here as
am I. Our starting and finishing point.
-But I feel like Buck Rogers and the
Temple of Doom!
-Yes. I can sense that groaning and mechanical sepia-ness. Amusing light.
-I’ll settle for doing just one of the miraculous things you’ve done!
-Why bother? Already suffocatingly
old hat
-Indulge me! Or I’m left with nothing!
-”Nothing” has already decided that.
-That final? You’re drawing a long bow!
-There’s only one. Like me...you’re
from here.
-So?
-You can no longer be from here. All life
and its language comes from that original fact. Straitjacket!
-Can’t be changed!
-Must! Meet me tomorrow. I’ll show you new chains of vowels.
-Uh huh? The brand new life hatched from language?
-It has been anxiously sounding itself as we sound here
-And it will fail as I will fail again!
-Not this time!
Labels: Creation, invention, language, new, shape shifting
Saturday, June 02, 2018
Each Having a Language
-I like your suggestion of
continuing to work on it!
-Great!
-But decided there’s not
enough time.
-But how do you know that?
-I don’t. That’s why I decided.
Labels: language, perception, time
Tuesday, November 14, 2017
Absurdly Dealing With the Absurd
When Jennifer left with
Hobie, Chunzie thought
that wherever love took
them, he should know the
address to forward her mail.
He finally called Beverly,
the other wronged spouse.
Who, dramatically, wanted to
meet with him.
They comforted each other.
Rather too well.
Extracting from her became
imperative.
And was accomplished awkwardly.
In the meantime, Old Man Tompkins
died, and his two sons ordered him
to run things and keep the firm
from bankruptcy.
Which he did, is doing.
And Roscoe the Lab, starts perking
up from his funk missing
Jennifer when Chunzie throws
a week of her embroided panties
(Sunday, Monday, etc)
into a mesh laundry bag and
tosses it among his pillows.
His oldest friend, Yaz, remarks
“Do you have any solutions not
bizarre?”
“Not lately.”
“I’d stop praying to The God
of Chaos right now!”
“He has put me on auto.”
The absconded Romeo and
Juliet finally located in
Cow Gulch, Wisconsin!
“Where else?” sighs Yaz,
“the huge tropical moon over
the cheese factory.
Swaying palms.
Ricardo strumming his Sear’s
Latin Chord Guitar and
wrenching out airs
from old Seville.”
“WHATEVER!”
punctuated Chunzie.
“Life isn’t language.”
“It isn’t?”
Labels: breakup, friend, language, marriage, Romance, running off, Spain
Tuesday, June 20, 2017
Millennial Trio
-Is my whole life getting on
Frisian Locomotives?
-No, your whole life consists
of stringing nonsense sounds.
-You, likewise, can't have a year
excluding October.
-You should. It's the gateway to
freakin ice!
-The dearth of tri-axial moonbeams
can no longer be ignored.
-Let’s ignore it anyway. Just for practice.
-My whole life...
-Not again!
-Your whole life consists of weakly
bitching for incoherent reasons.
-How rare to meet a true Millennial!
-Why not take a nice lay-down, Honey?
-My parents!
-Thought your little words were golden.
-As they hovered. And hovered!
-Helicopter Parents!
-Look around! They may be still!
-I don't need anyone anymore! I'm a
miracle as I stand. A living and
breathing...
-Uh huh?
-And the farmer took another
load away!
-If I became a farmer I'd make it better!
You’d see!
-Let’s give you an award now!
Before the fact.
-Ah but there are no facts!
Labels: fact, generations, language, language as avoidance, lazy, Millennials, theory, work
Saturday, May 06, 2017
Entangled
X from teen camp reports trying
events in a failing argot;
miles off, a Y trifling
with suicide--speaking recently,
though, quite intent. Both these
states hazardous, but
actually, X mocks
everything presently
as mere “language.“
So does she,
but won’t say it.
He lives to play
violent games
on his computer.
Our Faith to believe
he’s murdering
the instant
she rocks
herself, nam-
ing old dolls.
Labels: entanglement, language, physics, quantum, suicide
Friday, March 10, 2017
Private Languages
Chef poured me some wine
“I like this bottle. It’s an honest bottle
for an honest wine.”
We ate and he kept saying such things.
Well...it wasn’t a DIShonest bottle.
Labels: cooking, cuisine, honest, language, private language, wine
Wednesday, October 26, 2016
Trio
Pickles lost it. Rope and Detzy
went over there and unwedged
him from the recliner.
Detz made coffee you could stand on.
Rope sniffed then. “He smells like piss.”
“We’ll get him so he can clean himself up.”
“What happened here?”
“Jensy left him.”
“But she does that every few months!”
“This time it took. She cleaned the mirror,
and then polished it. Showed him his faults
to a fault.”
“Jesus! How cruel! What’s he mumbling about?”
“I don’t know. Cat got your tongue, Pickles?”
“A cat’ll act mean if you pull its tail!”
“He’s coming back. He’s telling us that she
took the Cadillac.”
“You should go to the UN. Be an interpreter.”
“Yeah, their shit resembles what usually comes
out of our Pickles.”
Labels: breakdown, breakup, Cadillac, friends, language, translatiion
Wednesday, July 08, 2015
Free Range or
The Mountain Goat Leaps From Precipice to Precipice
–-and back again to piss
-Two of the nicest ever, and they're getting married!
-The cauldron! Will determine if each is really nice,
or faking it.
-A percentage thing?
-Either way, I go for the nice, and seek it everywhere.
-Even the phoney...?
-Hey! We need a lubricant to keep us from each
other's throats!
-So, shake it until you make it?
-Any which way, or every which way!
-You talk in cliches.
-I'm taking that nicely. Besides, you’re one too,
-The important question always: Do you hafta
do one or two?
-Two.
-That’ll delay the revolution.
-I’m too nice for that.
-Do you think when you’re sitting there?
-Daydreams! What else?
-Well, the act itself.
-I don’t think that Mother Nature wants us
to worry so.
-She’s nice that way.
Labels: changing subjects, friends, interchange, language, wit
Saturday, May 30, 2015
Whammies
Since Chucksy stammered, no one
would listen to his improvement
to the common garden spade.
None in Heaven, so he's blocked now.
He's beautifully articulate there,
but language needs imperfection.
Aesthetically.
And a measure of raw, shameless
chutzpa.
Labels: articulate, chutzpa, heaven, language, nerve, spade
Wednesday, February 11, 2015
Women today are calling each other sluts
in a friendly manner. Linguists can tell us how
some language develops like this.
Thus, anyway, the word slut loses it shaming aspect.
Not a worry.
The Despicables will coin another.
Labels: class, condescension, custom, gossip, language, linguist, morality, mores, shame, slut, slut shaming
Tuesday, January 20, 2015
Wasting Time With Language
& how rare that is in Speedup America!
-It’s like football.
-How so? What is?
-You’re running with the ball and some oaf hammers you!
-Ouch!
-And you fumble. You jump on it, the ball. And all
the meat wagons do too--those who don’t jump
directly on you! And under there, they punch and
gouge you while others try to rip the ball away!
It’s a horror show–-with stinks!
-I get all that. But you’re comparing it to around HERE?
-Comparing what?
-Football, fumble, dirty shit!
-Who said anything about around here?
-Then, comparing to WHAT?
-Nothing! It’s Football, that’s all.
-But you said like, like, something was LIKE football.
-Sure!
-Well, that’s what I’m trying to find out!
-Good luck with all of that!
-You take the Patience of Job!
-My wife always says that. But, like you, she always says a lot of things.
-Uh huh?
-Says a lot of things.
Labels: confusion, football, friends, job, language, Patience of Job
Saturday, November 22, 2014
Yet Another Take on Modern Life
Commercial Director
-Get me the ugly little broad with
the enormous ass!
-Again?
-I like her! Doesn't turn all Betsy-Wetsy
when I scream.
-Do you care about the product this time?
-Never. All the same.
-Well, some background anyway: Whole Body
Makeup applied with a shovel. She punches
men before she discovers it, then gets all
fluttery-buttery and flirtsy-wirtsy after.
-Another Commercial Miracle!
-That latter part softens her image, though.
Her agent might not like...
-Hey! Like, dislike! That's the old rhetoric!
Each person a circus today.
-And if Madame Za-Longa is shot from the
canon and freezes mid-air?
-Crank her to the target or we all starve!
Labels: Circus, cynicism, language, modern life, TV, TV commercial
Saturday, November 01, 2014
A Parable Between the Stars
Bellsome-9 made Heloise-16 his Dream Girl
But she objected, since his speech was halting,
and she felt that they’d never get to it. In the
dream, or the life.
As a result, she migrated, without permission.
And Glad-44, instead, clanged in.
Belsome-9 awoke with headaches.
Having heard the ad-whispers, he signed on to the
short string of planets. Starting with Rolful, where
they eschewed machines and robots, thus all work
done by hand. There he grew strong!
When transferred to Maxton, he found the same rules.
No wonder, it was the same planet! Those who know
Rolful humor can understand.
Final planet was Opera, where they sang everything.
When Belsome-9 finally got home from there,
he couldn’t stop. This made him popular with the
women-–and he had retained his muscular body
from Rolful-Maxton.
With so many actual girls he didn’t require a Dream
one anymore.
And he started writing songs!–-in Opera there had
been no actual songs, just workaday tasks, sung.
His first one:
Got a body out in space
and it made me an ace.
Now I write songs
to right wrongs
for the rest of it.
So that’s new.
A meadow is freshest
with dew.
The Culture Commissioner immediately declared him
a National Treasure, and his original Dream Girl came
sucking round, but he dismissed her “with extreme prejudice!”
Labels: dream girl, future, language, opera, planets
Saturday, October 11, 2014
(Mountaintops Taken)
Giru, Bowling Alley
-I worry ALL THE TIME!
-Nothing all the time.
-I thought, maybe God? Give it to...?
-Depends on which one.
-Was brought up Catholic.
-That's a good one for worry.
Jewish best. Various Protestant
sects a mollycoddle third.
-Leaving out Moslem.
-Those people? All they do is
kill each other!
-Sounds prejudiced, o Exalted One!
-A strong prejudice or two stamps
a character!
-Well...that does it for worry, then?
Now, there's another problem that...
-Stop! Gotta bowl.
-Do you get mostly strikes?
-Far from it. The sport defies goodness.
Three strikes and I'm outa here!
-Mixing your metaphors.
-Show your badge, Detective Language Police!
Labels: bowling, Catholic, God, guru, language, Moslem, Protestant
Sunday, August 24, 2014
Language in the Park
Mr Bellsome always chooses the bench next to the
spready oak. You can be mostly alone to see
the light before evening.
Mrs Travis happens along, and he informs her that
"The Light is beautiful!"
"Beautiful I don't know. Pretty I'd go for."
"Pretty!" he tells Light when she’s gone. "I've always hated that word. It's like half a word."
“What can you do?” wearies Light.
Mrs Travis hears Mr Bellsome’s voice, and hurries
along the dirt and bark path.
"In my family," she whispers, "we don’t talk to nothing!"
Labels: language, point of view, sunset
Sunday, July 27, 2014
The Key to Language
My job took me out in brutal storms, days without rest,
and one 4-AM as the howling died, told the wife,
"I'm sleeping for a thousand years!"
Off by a factor of five. I woke up in this hostile place
in 7014.
What I gathered from my hospitality committee--I'm
being sarcastic--is that I was irredeemably dumb since
I could catch none of their language.
"Yeah, it's really simple, but weird, " Marky-O told me,
another time-traveler. "Just consists of three words and
two ending sounds for each.
Tookah, Wookah, Yookah. That's the whole barrel, but it
seems like a million intonation levels added to the endings."
“Why are they so mean to me?”
“Because you're Wookah-ooo. New one, no promise.”
“What're you?”
“Wookah-eee. Never again to be spoken to.”
“But what can I...?”
“I'll help you. We'll work on it. Please, please, be my friend.
It's been a hundred years or so, since I... I came here in
Tookah-ooo 8ooo. I'm translating the number. They’re
expressed in Tookah, Wookah, Yookah combinations also.”
“Give you a headache!”
“Yes, but you must try. Treats are free every Yookah-ooo.
Twelfth day of the week. It’s garbage for us until we break
through...or you do.”
“I...got way way beyond exhaustion...and then I was here.”
“We'll fight them! It's our only hope!”
“But...if I do learn enough of the stupid language, they'll
make me shun you."
“That's okay. So long as you keep getting the treats to me.”
“I promise!”
But, nine earth years later, they Tookah-ooo’d him.
And that's what you think it is.
I'm married to a real Tartar now. An extreme Tookah-eee!
I’ve learned all the ways to tell her I despise her, but that’s
expected here, and everybody laughs.
Labels: future, language, time, time traveler
