In fact if you view this
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YuTuUAl66Rg
and imagine Lugosi as the usual literary apprehension of war and the skull
and the guys behind it as the usual poesy of war this poem is the dwarf --
doing what the dwarf does -- or isn't it pretty to think so?
On 11/1/07, joe green <[log in to unmask]> wrote:
>
> Yeah -- the last two lines make it (for little old me).
>
> I ran across this in an interview with Mark Strand:
>
> "Strand began publishing poems in the 1960s, and says the status of poetry
> has changed since that time. "I think that poetry in the '60s and the '70s
> in America was a lot more popular, because they were writing a lot against
> the war in Vietnam and we had a huge audience of people who wanted to hear
> us. Today, you know, no one listens. People are writing poems against the
> war in Iraq and no one notices. Things have changed. I think that the big
> difference is that in the '60s and '70s, there was the draft. The war hit
> the middle class. Today there is no draft. And in addition, wars have become
> a lot more abstract than they were."
>
> Maybe -- or maybe always were. The horses in my verse come right out of
> the Wright poem recently under such intense and numinous scrutiny. All the
> tired, pretty horses.
>
>
> On 11/1/07, kasper salonen <[log in to unmask]> wrote:
> >
> > well that was quite a ride. I wanted to stop reading at one point, and
> > I thought I had, but turns out I was sucked in. this is sad, I don't
> > like it for its sadness, but for its sad poetry I guess. I like it.
> >
> > KS
> >
> > On 01/11/2007, joe green <[log in to unmask]> wrote:
> > > A Short History
> > >
> > >
> > >
> > >
> > >
> > > I have been very good.
> > >
> > >
> > >
> > > I have been very good for 8 years.
> > >
> > >
> > >
> > > I told my wife that our children looked like tiny skeletons only
> > >
> > > three times.
> > >
> > >
> > >
> > > When I spat blood I did so discreetly into monogrammed hankies.
> > >
> > >
> > >
> > > I told my wife that at last I had a single integrated action plan
> > (SIAP).
> > >
> > >
> > >
> > > The time I went to Disneyland and blew the head off the hippo in the
> > >
> > > jungle ride was an aberration.
> > >
> > >
> > >
> > > The time I spent 2 weeks in the Rocket Motel with a topless dancer
> > >
> > > named Baby Madonna was truly unusual.
> > >
> > >
> > >
> > > I no longer think I am a wolf.
> > >
> > >
> > >
> > > When I vomit on family holidays I do so with some grace and never at
> > >
> > > table.
> > >
> > >
> > >
> > > It has been years since I insisted on going into the woods to shit.
> > >
> > >
> > >
> > > I have been interested in organizational development.
> > >
> > >
> > >
> > > I no longer drink wine from bottles wrapped in paper bags
> > >
> > > with guys named Spider and Bullethead. I especially avoid doing
> > >
> > > this in our driveway.
> > >
> > >
> > >
> > > I am meek at work and participate with enthusiasm in group activities.
> > >
> > >
> > >
> > > When I run in 10 kilometer races it is hard to tell that I itch all
> > >
> > > over and am imagining that I am being chased by hearts with mouths.
> > >
> > >
> > >
> > > I only speak to the dog in my command voice.
> > >
> > >
> > >
> > > I go dutifully to all the Vietnam movies to learn what I should
> > >
> > > think. I explain to my son what a dustoff is. I do not
> > >
> > > mention the fact that to me it looks like people in the audience
> > >
> > > have the heads of hyenas and jackals.
> > >
> > >
> > >
> > > My son looks like a tiny skeleton.
> > >
> > >
> > >
> > > When he was born I went down in the cellar and built him a coffin.
> > >
> > > I will send this with him when he goes into the army. From Dad.
> > >
> > >
> > >
> > > If all dads did this it would save our government considerable
> > expense.
> > >
> > >
> > >
> > > Dads should also build coffins for the sons our sons will kill.
> > >
> > >
> > >
> > > I have a complete set of plans for coffins for sons of many
> > >
> > > nationalities. Spider told me that this was a waste of time.
> > >
> > > Just send along some extra-strength garbage bags. He said.
> > >
> > > And what about the mommas and babies. He said. And, anyway,
> > >
> > > you dumb shit. He said. There ain't nothing to bury most of the
> > >
> > > time. He said. You dumb old fucker. You think we're back in
> > Vietnam.
> > >
> > >
> > >
> > > I still think that it would demonstrate our compassion.
> > >
> > >
> > >
> > > I often imagine my daughter on fire.
> > >
> > >
> > >
> > > I was reading "Come Away, Joe" to her and she was curled up in my arms
> > and
> > >
> > > I imagined that she was hit with white phosphorus and burned from the
> > >
> > > inside out. The white phosphorus looked like a star in her belly.
> > >
> > > I imagined that she was also hit with napalm. Have some jelly, honey.
> >
> > >
> > > We called people burnt up by napalm "crispy critters." This was
> > >
> > > a popular breakfast cereal at the time.
> > >
> > >
> > >
> > > Here is how I am telling you I make love to my wife.
> > >
> > >
> > >
> > > I imagine that we are both dead and holding each other. We are under
> > >
> > > a hill. The hill looks over a blue and peaceful town. The town
> > >
> > > is not a town. It is the shadow of a tone. The bank, the church,
> > >
> > > the little stores and tiny houses tremble and dissolve in a soft mist.
> > >
> > > No-one can see the town. It is not in any government records or on
> > any
> > >
> > > maps. Our children live there.
> > >
> > >
> > >
> > > For a long time I was unemployed. I drove a car the color of a cloud.
> > >
> > > I would pick up our children from school. Your father comes for you
> > >
> > > in a car the color of a cloud.
> > >
> > >
> > >
> > > At night I imagine that our dead cat is walking in the garden.
> > >
> > > I imagine I am in the garden and she treadles my chest. She licks
> > >
> > > my eyes thinking the moon's rays are milk. Her eyes shine with love.
> > >
> > > Lay down with me lay down in the humility of death.
> > >
> > >
> > >
> > > You see that I am very sentimental.
> > >
> > >
> > >
> > > This morning we all sat at breakfast and I said "I am worried
> > >
> > > about Goethe."
> > >
> > >
> > >
> > > "Why, Dad?" My son said.
> > >
> > >
> > >
> > > "Ok, dear." My wife said. "You have been good for eight years.
> > >
> > > You can have that party."
> > >
> > >
> > >
> > > This is a lie. My wife left me 10 years ago. She lives with our
> > >
> > > children and her new husband in a very nice rambler on a cul-de-sac
> > >
> > > in the very nice state of California.
> > >
> > >
> > >
> > > I often imagine that my children are dream children.
> > >
> > >
> > >
> > > I still live in the same house which is where I grew up. My father is
> > dead.
> > >
> > > My mother is dead. They are buried in Fairview cemetery. Just off
> > Oak
> > >
> > > street. Warrensville, Pa, 19380.
> > >
> > >
> > >
> > > They are on a very nice cul-de-sac.
> > >
> > >
> > >
> > > Old joke.
> > >
> > >
> > >
> > > I spoke to my mother the other night.
> > >
> > >
> > >
> > > "Do you have your gloves on?" She asked.
> > >
> > >
> > >
> > > "Yes." I asseverated.
> > >
> > >
> > >
> > > I came home from Vietnam when my father died.
> > >
> > >
> > >
> > > "Your father died." They said.
> > >
> > >
> > >
> > > "Complete this form." They said. "Be back in two weeks." They said.
> > >
> > >
> > >
> > > When I got off the plane in Honolulu they hung flowers around my neck.
> > >
> > >
> > >
> > > Then they unloaded the bodies.
> > >
> > > This was back when wars were really fucked up.
> > >
> > >
> > >
> > > When I saw my father in the coffin I saw that they put glasses on him.
> > >
> > > He only wore glasses to read. They wanted a homey look. I vomited
> > >
> > > in the men's room. I held my mother at the grave. Her cloth coat
> > >
> > > smelled the same as it did when I was little.
> > >
> > >
> > >
> > > We went home to the funeral meats which were Vienna sausages in tomato
> > >
> > > sauce. This is how a lot of people live. My cousin turned on the TV
> > >
> > > to watch a football game. True. He was down in the basement. True.
> > >
> > > Other males were enjoying the game. I threw my father's hammer
> > >
> > > through the screen. Incoming. I kicked my cousin in the face.
> > >
> > > Everyone was embarrassed.
> > >
> > >
> > >
> > >
> > >
> > > Here's who was dead when I came back.
> > >
> > >
> > >
> > > Daniel Mitchinok
> > >
> > >
> > >
> > > Carlos Gonzalez
> > >
> > >
> > >
> > > John Rollins
> > >
> > >
> > >
> > > William Latoff
> > >
> > >
> > >
> > >
> > >
> > > Gross weight: about 710 lbs.
> > >
> > >
> > >
> > >
> > >
> > > I bought a tape recorder to record my thoughts about war and letters
> > >
> > > to my mother.
> > >
> > >
> > >
> > > Here are my thoughts about war as recorded by me at Landing Zone
> > >
> > > X-Ray adjacent to the Chu Pong Range:
> > >
> > >
> > >
> > > Here is a continuation of those thoughts as recorded by me trekking
> > >
> > > overland with the 5th Cav:
> > >
> > >
> > >
> > > Here are my thoughts as I surveyed the 800 dead of a famous battle
> > >
> > > that you can read about in a coffee table book available at
> > >
> > > a discount rate from Barnes and Noble:
> > >
> > >
> > >
> > > My letters to mother were equally eloquent.
> > >
> > >
> > >
> > > Is this too easy? Yes.
> > >
> > >
> > >
> > > Do you want to know the truth?
> > >
> > >
> > >
> > > My wife told me she was leaving. I am tired of this shit.
> > >
> > > Blah. Blah. She said.
> > >
> > >
> > >
> > > I asked her to wait. "Don't pack yet." I said.
> > >
> > >
> > >
> > > I went to the mall and bought a camera. Plenty of film.
> > >
> > >
> > >
> > > When I came home she was crying. She was on the couch.
> > >
> > >
> > >
> > > I took pictures of every room in the house.
> > >
> > > I opened every closet and drawer and took pictures.
> > >
> > > I took her picture.
> > >
> > > When the kids came home I took their pictures.
> > >
> > >
> > >
> > > They left.
> > >
> > >
> > >
> > > Then her mother and her brothers came over and took everything.
> > >
> > >
> > >
> > > It took me two years to complete the reconstruction. Now I have
> > >
> > > a lifesize wife weeping on the couch. My son sits at his desk
> > >
> > > and plays Pac Man. My daughter plays with her doll.
> > >
> > > Some of that shit was hard to find.
> > >
> > >
> > >
> > > You understand. You are also sentimental.
> > >
> > >
> > >
> > > One year I drove to California to see my children. In the car the
> > >
> > > color of a cloud. In Oklahoma I woke up at dawn and went outside
> > >
> > > the motel room. It was next to a pasture. There were horses in
> > >
> > > the pasture. I stood at the fence. The horses were the color of
> > >
> > > the dawn. They came to me.
> > >
> > >
> > >
> > > Then I kicked in the bedroom door.
> > >
> > >
> > >
> > > Shot this picture.
> > >
> > >
> > >
> > > Reader. Rider. Horses.
> > >
> > >
> > >
> > > Slaked. Plausive. Ignorant.
> > >
> >
>
>
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