Seeing the luverly poem posted at Riddled by Another Kiwi, I started musing on a poetic career that peaked too early.
Back in the mid-nineties, I wrote the finest poem that I can ever hope to write- all other poetic efforts on my part will be mere shadows compared to this work:
Fifty-ninth Street Bridge
Ain't no-one feelin' groovy
Commuting from Queens.
This Big Bad Bald Bastard, unlike a certain other Big Bad Bald Bastard, cannot hope to pull off an impressive late-life effort to top this... no Sonnatorrek will rival my Höfuðlausn, if you will.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
5 comments:
The skull in the SciAm link has an ENTICINGLY LARGE FOREHEAD.
Much as I like the idea that Egil had Paget's disease, the only real evidence is a skull (possibly Pagetic) disinterred in an Icelandic graveyard a while after his death, and identified by its finders as Egil's because, well, it was large.
It could have been the skull of a pygmy elephant for all we know.
I used to commute from Queens, back in 1983. I'd take the 7 train, though.
Also, we did not last out the lease, I decided that it was time to move to Manhattan (and below 42nd St. at that...so as to avoid commuting through such as on the way downtown).
~
It could have been the skull of a pygmy elephant for all we know.
Egil was a cyclops?
I used to commute from Queens, back in 1983. I'd take the 7 train, though.
Even though I live in the City of Y______, I'm a 4 train man, although I can walk to the 2/5 as well. My neighborhood straddles the Bronx/Yonkers border, and the subway lines are more convenient (and a hell of a lot cheaper) than the commuter trains).
Egil was a cyclops?
A MUTANT TWO-EYED cyclops.
A MUTANT TWO-EYED cyclops.
The dreaded biclops of legend!
Post a Comment