Or heaven… your smilage may vary.
Hell’s Jukebox
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WHEN in the course of human Events, it becomes necessary….
Welcome to the New American Digest: 2003-2020
Gerard Van der Leun
Stone-cutters fighting time with marble, you foredefeated
Challengers of oblivion
Eat cynical earnings, knowing rock splits, records fall down,
The square-limbed Roman letters
Scale in the thaws, wear in the rain. The poet as well
Builds his monument mockingly;
For man will be blotted out, the blithe earth die, the brave sun
Die blind and blacken to the heart:
Yet stones have stood for a thousand years, and pained
thoughts found
The honey of peace in old poems.
— Robinson Jeffers
His soul stretched tight across the skies
That fade behind a city block,
Or trampled by insistent feet
At four and five and six o’clock;
And short square fingers stuffing pipes,
And evening newspapers, and eyes
Assured of certain certainties,
The conscience of a blackened street
Impatient to assume the world.
I am moved by fancies that are curled
Around these images, and cling:
The notion of some infinitely gentle
Infinitely suffering thing.
Wipe your hand across your mouth, and laugh;
The worlds revolve like ancient women
Gathering fuel in vacant lots.
— Eliot
I CELEBRATE myself, and sing myself,
And what I assume you shall assume,
For every atom belonging to me as good belongs to you.
I loafe and invite my soul,
I lean and loafe at my ease observing a spear of summer grass.
My tongue, every atom of my blood, form’d from this soil, this
air,
Born here of parents born here from parents the same, and their
parents the same,
I, now thirty-seven years old in perfect health begin,
Hoping to cease not till death.
— Walt Whitman
The scientists are in terror
and the European mind stops
Wyndham Lewis chose blindness
rather than have his mind stop.
Night under wind mid garofani,
the petals are almost still
Mozart, Linnaeus, Sulmona,
When one’s friends hate each other
how can there be peace in the world?
Their asperities diverted me in my green time.
A blown husk that is finished
but the light sings eternal
a pale flare over marshes
where the salt hay whispers to tide’s change
Time, space,
neither life nor death is the answer.
And of man seeking good,
doing evil.
In meiner Heimat
where the dead walked
and the living were made of cardboard.
Comments on this entry are closed.
I got nuthin’.
Wut?
Hahahahahahaha! Funny stuff.
Except for Hattie & Billy, which is obviously a “Chitlin Circuit” double-entendre comedy-songs LP, I’m curious as to what they *sound* like. Could the music *possibly* be as insufferable, ugly, or grotesque, as the sleeves are?
Hey Svetlana, can you air up my bassitball again?
Once you’ve tasted Dick Black you’ll never go back.
Saggy udder day at the dairy farm.
Sandwiching sweet Mrs Mills between the Tit for Tat naked Vampirina chick? That’s just naughty,Gerard. And funny.
The Malden album is disturbing. He looks like he’s channeling a clean-shaven John Wayne Gacy, and the young lady looks like a Happy Juggalo.
Put Clooney’s face for Malden’s,reading the speeches of BHO,with a transgender Bullwhip Griffin to his right, and it’s just another day at Disney, 2018. The more it changes, the more it stays the same.
Gerard-
Do you still have the one I sent you a couple of years ago?
I was disappointed not to see “Keep It Gay” in that collection.
Everything about that Karl Malden record is wrong.
Maya Angelou, whore dancing around an african camp fire while softly cooing black, feminist, MauMau love poetry is a pure picture of that old mammy.
“Do you still have the one I sent you a couple of years ago?
I was disappointed not to see “Keep It Gay” in that collection.”
Sorry. Must have missed that. I’ll look.
… Nope. Didn’t see it under the comcast or yahoo addresses.
Wait…wait, no, no…wait.
“Uncle Jemima Soap”?
I have that Anna Russel album. An interesting relic. It is comedy and music that at the time would have been decidedly middle-brow but to get it you really had to have some underlying knowledge. Unlike the most of the “comedy” today.
Don’t get me wrong, I love me some Diceman, but it’s a nice change of pace to hear comedy that requires a brain.