Ah Minneapolis with a Frosting Ghazal
Okay, now, so, here I am- in some faux Las Vegas (very not Vegas) or vegetative
atmosphere in the middle of Minni, the city in the land of lakes
I've met two Somalis since I've landed, come here from Mogadishu, funny...
Have I met a Minnesotan? What am I here for?
I wrote a play which might, MIGHT be performed here tomorrow
(if not then I am here for nothing!)
The University gave me money to be, to represent them I guess, but the Somalis don't care
and I have no t-shirts or mugs to hand out. Here, in this "American Bistro" the bread is good and very Italian, the pasta- fusion, and everything is under priced and expensive.
When your feet get tired, your back stiff, and your mind bogged you will do anything, i.e.: spend $20 on a sleepy pasta, admit you are Taliban, give away your mother's tomato sauce recipe, etc dot dot dot
EVERYONE IS IN NEED OF A GOOD SALESMAN, everyone. If someone could sell me, oh! I am so valuable, a rarity, a real treasure- tomorrow I'll have to find cheaper grub.
I am now craving vegetables, I often do. This is mind and body meeting. Soul, virtue, spleen, spirit, reason, all meeting in one mouth, in the effort of the chewing, in the jaw tension- the mmm...
Stop bowing your head to me, I don't mind all the "Mr. Roth" stuff, but don't physically do it.
One life is not enough to assure, to be best-able.
(Old woman catches my eye in the mirror, she "says") You remind me of a boy I once knew. The town was small, quaint, pastoral American. You delivered newspapers. I was your last toss.
Humanista
do these things have to be two line bitties?
atmosphere in the middle of Minni, the city in the land of lakes
I've met two Somalis since I've landed, come here from Mogadishu, funny...
Have I met a Minnesotan? What am I here for?
I wrote a play which might, MIGHT be performed here tomorrow
(if not then I am here for nothing!)
The University gave me money to be, to represent them I guess, but the Somalis don't care
and I have no t-shirts or mugs to hand out. Here, in this "American Bistro" the bread is good and very Italian, the pasta- fusion, and everything is under priced and expensive.
When your feet get tired, your back stiff, and your mind bogged you will do anything, i.e.: spend $20 on a sleepy pasta, admit you are Taliban, give away your mother's tomato sauce recipe, etc dot dot dot
EVERYONE IS IN NEED OF A GOOD SALESMAN, everyone. If someone could sell me, oh! I am so valuable, a rarity, a real treasure- tomorrow I'll have to find cheaper grub.
I am now craving vegetables, I often do. This is mind and body meeting. Soul, virtue, spleen, spirit, reason, all meeting in one mouth, in the effort of the chewing, in the jaw tension- the mmm...
Stop bowing your head to me, I don't mind all the "Mr. Roth" stuff, but don't physically do it.
One life is not enough to assure, to be best-able.
(Old woman catches my eye in the mirror, she "says") You remind me of a boy I once knew. The town was small, quaint, pastoral American. You delivered newspapers. I was your last toss.
Humanista
do these things have to be two line bitties?
posted by friars | Saturday, March 03, 2007
2 Comments:
we've been going by this here from harrison:
" The ghazal is an antique form dating from the thirteenth century and practiced by hundreds of poets since… I have not adhered to the strictness of metrics and structure of the ancient practitioners, with the exception of using a minimum of five couplets. The couplets are not related by reason or logic and their only continuity is made by metaphorical jump…"
hope your show goes up
it's a confusing form in different languages... here we just do at least five couplets!
but boy i really liked your piece here!
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