i. for the incessant requesters of context, we begin again
there are them that want to name the things
and them that want to rule the names,
sniffle, sniffle, sniffle-
boom, boom, boom:
it is only a recurring dream when you find the exit recurring.
I am so glad that that is settled.
ii. stopping the wheel with a peasant's shoulder
when syntax is a fait accompli, the semantic will bite your ass-
hard.
and it will hurt:
like a crocodile dictionary which,
incidentally,
consists mainly of canonical entries for claws and fangs,
and skin that defies those moisturizers
that were hyped in loud and lemon green
when we splashed around the pool:
has anyone seen my swimmy wings?
Saturday, November 7, 2009
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14 comments:
This is cute. It made both smile and think.
Besides always making me think, with your words written. Too, you make me smile with your humour within such.
Loving your turn of phrase and the tongue-and-cheek humour. Great piece of poetic comedy :)
this is an out of ordinary poem! but i like it :)
I came to think of an exhausted programmer drinking liquor while coding very late at night.
Oh, I pretty sure the “namers” and name rulers would find it damn hard to catch you at work. Your poems will remain impossible to categorize.
Anglo-Saxon crocodile linguists would probably like to set there teeth in some Germanic linguistic structure. That would keep them busy.
I like your poem a lot!
taxonomy and hegemony... and well conveyed, too. I have to agree with some of the other commenters, as well... a chuckle and an eyebrow raise...nice side by side.
I love the idea of a "crocodile dictionary"... great turns of phrase as always.
I guess that's why the have 100 names for the same thing so everyone can get a piece of the action.
That's my rock.
This can't be your rock because it's my boulder.
I beg to differ, that's a rock, my rock not a boulder.
No, your rock was more like a stone, just a little bigger than a pebble......
good one Walker. one comic turn deserves another.
Ande: how did you know that software is my dayjob?
Jenny: me, enigma?
thanks Francis for appreciating my absurdity
Harlequin: chuckles are always good, except fot the licorice
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