Tuesday, June 19, 2012

Star Spanked Banana

I've been celebrating the anniversary of the War of 1812. When was it again?

The Foe's Haughty Host In Dread Silence Reposes

It's not that having illustrious ancestors
Turns you into a drunk. It just gives you that push.
Illustrious drunken ancestors, now that,
That'll do it. Lost, genius, dead young.

Our anthem is a song beloved of none
But delusional divas, clutching
Their way up the staff to touch free.
The tune, a gentlemen's club drinking song.
In its slumping waltz you can see
The robust arm of a tavern slut
Slinging a mug, swabbing a counter,
Milking somebody's trousers.
The words, a back-of-the-envelope scribble,
A bit and a piece from here and before,
The fruits of your inspiration
A painfully drawn out interrogation:
Can you see? Can you see?

Of course you'd never call it poetry,
But it made you feel like somebody,
Thinking that's where you came from.
A name like that, to you it's worth
Any number of beautiful, beautiful shirts.

Photo: Still from the version of Gatsby coming out this year.


David said...


Lotsa heat and steam

Slothrop said...

Oh yeah, I can see. All you have to do is turn a phrase like "slumping waltz." I get the whole panorama. Wish you'd been in that fort so we could hear some decent words being shrieked at us. Even a flagpole pun would grease my patriotism.

Slothrop said...

...Wow, that reads as really ambiguous. (Was I drunk? Don't remember...) What I really meant was that I love the poem & wish Maria had written our national anthem instead of...that guy.