>>> 1st NEW POEM I HAVE WRITTEN IN 3 YEARS; NOW YOU MIGHT KNOW WHY <<<


from “The Nine Types of Poets” (sketches)


Nine?  There are at least 69 of ‘em
inside,
wanting out,
Warden.

Pay attention, please -
and as you should -

to the ones banging about most loudly
against the cages,
to be sure -

but also, please kind Sir,
take thoughtful, wise care
with the quieter ones;

one helps the other. 

Let them out and see what
horrors, and glorious failures, and
attempts at [the current definition of] sanity
will soon follow

like an army.

Damn them torpedoes;
Full speed ahead,
As some writers of verse
Whom lay waste
To their own preconception of themselves
May very well accede.

IN HONOR OF MS. STREEP and IN HORROR OF MARGARET THATCHER, here is an old poem from my personal, mold-infested vault:

Margaret Thatcher Declares An End to War

Then she took a walk around the head;  nothing there, went out.

Grabbed a fistful of yen, went ‘round back to Babylon.

Ate a dog, spermed a whale, thrust javelins to Dr. Caligari’s eyes.

Grew tusks!  Had one removed at the dentist’s.

Called home, spoke to deceased Father, and Mother;

Inquired of comatose Siamese sister.

‘This contagion,’ she later told doctors, ‘had just given birth.’

She was lying.

NETFLIK'R'D™

F R O M  T H E  D E S K  O F  Y E S H U A  Y O G - S O T H O T H .

AS A PRE-EMPTIVE REPRIEVE from the usual vainglorious, ego-driven poetry intending to make its way here, also to be posted soon will be a few minor 'reviews' of some "Instant-Streaming" movies available on The Netflix I was able to stomach for not much longer than 3 or so minutes before forming opinions and plot predictions which then were shared nearly instantaneously with the entire Netflik'r'd™ community in a self-righteous, inebriated state at odd or unusual hours. 


"Ironically, Impatience begat the 'Pause' button," as Sir John Thomas Edison improbably wrote, despairingly, to his Mother –  back in those simpler, old-fashioned days.  Likewise, what may have, indeed, begun as "a series of delightfully angry responses to a particular strain of [Netflik'r'd™] armchair critics who, as if out of spite, refuse to watch more than a few moments of nearly any film before acting upon their primal need to proclaim closely-held (and poorly articulated) assumptions in particularly self-indulgent, ignorant ways" (as the Times somewhat chummily  held forth in a summary of my unpublished ledger) nevertheless ended abruptly when, upon investigating the sheer, practical handiness of said "Instant-Streaming" technology (a Pause button!  A Stop button!  A Post Your Own Review button!) I realized I had no U.S. dollars to lose by "walking out," so to speak, of what certainly would not become a better film upon further viewing, as I'm sure you will all come to agree.  


 Also to be posted, as decency allows:  3 clenched fist-fulls of actual, unedited RIPOSTES to other miscreants' reviews from the offended and/or disgruntled Netflik'r'd™ apologists for Unreason and all else that is foul in modern-day cinemafantastique.  Cheers!