Quotes about hose, page 10
The Spit Sucker
Spit's her burden, her work,
she aspirates it all day, sucks it up.
Of course she does other things,
but you won't remember her for those.
You'll remember her for her hose.
the pipe she sticks in your mouth.
You don't know she did two years college,
studied nights, languished over books.
You don't care, she had to learn anatomy,
and how or when to offer what or why
to a puffed up dentist that looks down on her
for being less qualified.
It doesn't matter to you that she knows canulation
anatomy, or cardiac massage.
No - you don't know, because to you
she's just the spit sucker,
the pretty thing that soothes your brow while you
muster up the courage to have a crown.
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poem by Ruth Walters
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Wherefore Art Thou Romeo?
I see thee still in doublet wide,
And hose well kept, a world too slack,
So long and lean thou wert allied,
It struck me, with that curious back,
The Zoo giraffe. Thy brow was black,
Thy speech was awkward, action slow.
I whispered at thy first attack:
“And wherefore art thou Romeo?”
Thou wert then fifty and cross-eyed;
For acting never hadst the knack.
With stilted bow and Irving stride
Thou tookst the stage, and Jill and Jack
Both sniggered, when with damned clack
Thou talkedst of moons, and wrecked the show.
And here by Heaven, thou art back.
Oh, wherefore art thou Romeo?
This fellow was a lad of pride,
No prinked-out fool, with just a snack
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poem by Edward George Dyson
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A Snake In My Garden
One night I was in charge of the house
When my parents had gone out side
I was having loads of fun
With the radio blaring and paper planes that glide
Soon enough I got bored
So I went to the garden for a walk
When suddenly I saw a snake
Just next to a rock
It was definitely a snake
And it was the biggest one I have ever seen
It must have been a mile long
And its body was a sickening shade of green
I called the police, ambulance, fire department,
Forest officials and held a news conference
I waited feeling excited
While I clutched at the fence
Soon enough they poured in
And peered at the snake
They were amazed at its length
But no one the snake would touch or take
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poem by Risha Ahmed
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Villion's Ballade Of Good Counsel, To His Friends Of Evil Life
Nay, be you pardoner or cheat,
Or cogger keen, or mumper shy,
You'll burn your fingers at the feat,
And howl like other folks that fry.
All evil folks that love a lie!
And where goes gain that greed amasses,
By wile, and trick, and thievery?
'Tis all to taverns and to lasses!
Rhyme, rail, dance, play the cymbals sweet,
With game, and shame, and jollity,
Go jigging through the field and street,
With MYST'RY and MORALITY;
Win gold at GLEEK,--and that will fly,
Where all you gain at PASSAGE passes, -
And that's? You know as well as I,
'Tis all to taverns and to lasses!
Nay, forth from all such filth retreat,
Go delve and ditch, in wet or dry,
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poem by Andrew Lang
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Nostalgia And Complaint Of The Grandparents
Les morts
C’est sous terre;
Ça n’en sort
Guère.
LAFORGUE
Our diaries squatted, toad-like,
On dark closet ledges.
Forget-me-not and thistle
Decalcomaned the pages.
But where, where are they now,
All the sad squalors
Of those between-wars parlors?—
Cut flowers; and the sunlight spilt like soda
On torporous rugs; the photo
Albums all outspread ...
The dead
Don’t get around much anymore.
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poem by Donald Justice
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Making It Up
I have this deadly
jar, brush and blush
which applied
is called make-up
Such trepidation here;
I dip with foundation cream
eyeliner and brow trim
place in
my green contact lense;
hair filled out with
fall and curls
mouth plumped up
with mystery shot
red paint
24-hour guaranteed
and then my mirror
gazes back
an altered me.
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poem by Lonnie Hicks
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That Night
In the darkness we gather,
scorning the moonlight and the streets.
Carrying our burden,
we make our way to the high school,
behind the houses.
Then duck one by one into the wash
like shadows spilling
up the sandy, tree lined waterway...
walking and laughing.
Nearly two miles later we climb out
crawling through bamboo
Staring at the shadow of the house
reading the warning
that says, 'This house is not for sale! '
Backpacks are opened,
their contents are dispersed with glee.
Taking two rolls each,
we begin to decorate in liberal white.
Soft tendancies unwind.
We wrap them around the chimney,
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poem by Poet Dragon
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To Mary Pickford
MOVING-PICTURE ACTRESS
(On hearing she was leaving the moving-pictures for the stage.)
Mary Pickford, doll divine,
Year by year, and every day
At the movmg-picture play,
You have been my valentine.
Once a free-limbed page in hose,
Baby-Rosalind in flower,
Cloakless, shrinking, in that hour
How our reverent passion rose,
How our fine desire you won.
Kitchen-wench another day,
Shapeless, wooden every way.
Next, a fairy from the sun.
Once you walked a grown-up strand
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poem by Vachel Lindsay
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Madcowed At The Ranch
The most effective degradation to come along,
To affect the current human condition...
And state of mind,
Has occurred within the past eight years!
And there are those cheering statements of progress...
With encouragement this stance should maintain its course.
And sustain this disasterous direction for another hundred?
To protect a way of life,
Those on foreign lands already control and manipulate...
Without seasoned propaganda!
Had they too been madcowed at the ranch?
Between bar-b-que...
And miscued speeches given?
Had they too been madcowed at the ranch?
Unknowing there is little chance in hell...
To keep an icecube bristling a cool taste,
For a Long Island Tea that sits in one hundred degree heat!
And yet...
That too is promised!
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poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Bird With Two Right Wings
And now our government
a bird with two right wings
flies on from zone to zone
while we go on having our little fun & games
at each election
as if it really mattered who the pilot is
of Air Force One
(They're interchangeable, stupid!)
While this bird with two right wings
flies right on with its corporate flight crew
And this year its the Great Movie Cowboy in the cockpit
And next year its the great Bush pilot
And now its the Chameleon Kid
and he keeps changing the logo on his captains cap
and now its a donkey and now an elephant
and now some kind of donkephant
And now we recognize two of the crew
who took out a contract on America
and one is a certain gringo wretch
who's busy monkeywrenching
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poem by Lawrence Ferlinghetti
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