And the seas turned black as sack, black as night, black as pitch, black as the coffee on the morning your side of bed was unused.
And the sky shrieked, loud as a bomb, loud as a failure, loud as a Tennessee prostate exam, loud as dad’s voice in every young man’s story.
And the wind howled like a summer’s morning at the sex dentist.
A two-head lamb was born today. Two-headed lambs, you say, are naturally occurring phenomena: it’s creepy but it happens. Yes, I say, but this two-headed lamb was born to Mrs. Claudia Dalrymple of 11 Cherokee Street and she’s had three kids already and none of them were lambs at all, let alone two-headed, so why don’t you take your questions and kiss my balls with them?
Really?
There were tsunamis in Idaho, twisters in Vladivostok, blizzards in the Maldives. Madagascar was shut down immediately.
Do you hear his cries? Bleeep. Flizzmsctrch. JZHoooooooWAHWAH. EEEEEEEeeeeeEEEEEeeeee. Bloop.
Ned Lagin is here.
I came for the Yeats allusion, I stayed for the insanity.
I’ll take it.
I use that poem when I want to pay a compliment to people I disagree with, i.e, “Say what you will about the Tea Party, you can’t deny that they’re full of passionate intensity.”
No one ever gets that one, do they?
People take it at face value 9/10s of the time.