Thing I've always noticed about Simon Armitage is that at the heart of his
sound system is the good old limerick. Look at the lines Desdemundo quotes,
the sway and the clonk of the limerick (it's gotcha snap) is their ghostly
forefather, brushed-up and Sunday smart for the occasion, the serious poem.
On 21 April 2010 07:33, Desmond Swords <[log in to unmask]> wrote:
> I read about the tea party gang when first they magically appeared,
> apparently funded by big bucks mob from corporation back-channel, suits Noam
> likens to a pre-Weimar herd of muppets doing the bidding of big bucks
> rutting for their doe rings, roaring in the two to one odds of being female
> attracted to the loudest deer mad yeah, is it four hundred thousand,
> million, as Simon says, in a blink
>
> 'selling sand to the desert,
>
> ice to the Arctic,
> money to the rich.
> The elation of trading in futures and risk.
>
> Here I stand, a compass needle,
> a sundial spindle
> right at the pinnacle.
>
> Under my feet
> Manhattan's a simple bagatelle, a pinball table,
> all lights and mirrors and whistles and bells.'
>
> ~
>
> At the very top of his game and rarely praised in these parts I know, but
> according to the article I read about the teabag gang up for revolution
> because they're all maxed out with being part of the plan not THEIRS', well
> you may well doe far away on rocks far off matey janus pals pretending -
> pre- effin-tendin t'bae like Siman and one, you muppets!!!
>
> Take no notice, it's an act.
>
> Wow, who wants to join Trident Armitage twenty years after a leash released
> got him banging out the special luvvie gear: Not only all of the UK going
> mad for more Si yeah, but effin mad in the US of A as well Si is.
>
> Put that up yer jumper, translate an epic middle English classic, and make
> the crowd go mad for me and Saye more because Simon says it so beautifully
> English, innit?
>
> Yeah, well underrated that dark haired forty summat smooth skinned granny
> chaser you opponents of those in the Tribe of US and aye, reasoned logically
> in the New Yorker arguments one was perusing at the altar in the
>
> 'tea party: Referring to the dumping of 'British' tea in Boston harbor in
> the lead-up to the 'New' revolution, aye. Makar of the
>
> Best,
>
> Mark
>
>
> I am with Noam all the way up to a point beyond which an intellectual
> cannot cross because to do so would be heresy and treason.
>
> No, AmPo cannot be put at risk like this if 'we' are to live beyond the
> calling of a handsome chap from Lancashire, or Yorkshire, one a blonde the
> other a gazeb in Huddersfield and Haliax slapping art about the shop for
> clunky funky good times in Letters. That's all. Nothing major or questioning
> beyomnd a certain joke, Alison, David, Kapser, Uche 'baby'. Sound dunt
> naGayl Glin Mor for the US of A - rimin 'n timin, maybe some way shapes in
> the clackety thwacking plosive bioveviolar region of a mouth less tuned to
> seeking hits, than feeling tits R US in the tribe of Simon Armpit guage,
> don't look up, sky falling in crumpling Noam's attention span because he
> said it and he effin knows, muppeteers.
>
--
David Bircumshaw
"A window./Big enough to hold screams/
You say are poems" - DMeltzer
Website and A Chide's Alphabet
http://www.staplednapkin.org.uk
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