msifg wrote:
> Will Dockery <will.dock...@gmail.com> wrote:
> > On May 31, 5:54 pm, Karla <karl...@NEVERcomcast.net> wrote:
>
> > > Lot's Wife
> >
> > > Her mistake was literally
> > > looking back at the holocaust of hearth.
> > > The blood rushed from her
> > > in the horrific centrifuge
> > > spinning down minerals
> > > into a block of salt.
> >
> > > We know no other name for her -
> > > a possession in a land of sin,
> > > a pillar in a has-been community,
> > > our cautionary parable.
> > > Recent excavations unearth tablets
> > > of this tale and others
> > > but of the running woman
> > > stopped a few meters from inhospitality
> > > nothing.
> >
> > > Who'd want to know
> > > grass refused to grow
> > > at her feet and
> > > dappled deer returning
> > > to parched earth
> > > tongued her new essence
> > > unto death?
> >
> > > Karla
> > > rev. 5/24/09
> >
> > Nice poem.
> >
> > "...When asked for critique on a specific poem, Burroughs would answer
> > carefully, 'Why, I don't specifically think of it. I just rather like
> > it, is all...'."
> >
> > --
> > "She Sleeps Tight", vocals by Will Dockery & Sandy Madaris, guitars by
> > Brian Mallard. Paintings by George Sulzbach:http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9uGY157cpiU- Hide quoted text -
> >
> > - Show quoted text -
> nice quote.

True, "Quote of the Day" worthy.

:)

On Tuesday, April 4, 2023 at 6:31:28 PM UTC-4, Will Dockery wrote:
> msifg wrote:
> > Will Dockery <will.dock...@gmail.com> wrote:
> > > On May 31, 5:54 pm, Karla <karl...@NEVERcomcast.net> wrote:
> >
> > > > Lot's Wife
> > >
> > > > Her mistake was literally
> > > > looking back at the holocaust of hearth.
> > > > The blood rushed from her
> > > > in the horrific centrifuge
> > > > spinning down minerals
> > > > into a block of salt.
> > >
> > > > We know no other name for her -
> > > > a possession in a land of sin,
> > > > a pillar in a has-been community,
> > > > our cautionary parable.
> > > > Recent excavations unearth tablets
> > > > of this tale and others
> > > > but of the running woman
> > > > stopped a few meters from inhospitality
> > > > nothing.
> > >
> > > > Who'd want to know
> > > > grass refused to grow
> > > > at her feet and
> > > > dappled deer returning
> > > > to parched earth
> > > > tongued her new essence
> > > > unto death?
> > >
> > > > Karla
> > > > rev. 5/24/09
> > >
> > > Nice poem.
> > >
> > > "...When asked for critique on a specific poem, Burroughs would answer
> > > carefully, 'Why, I don't specifically think of it. I just rather like
> > > it, is all...'."
> > >
> > > --
> > > "She Sleeps Tight", vocals by Will Dockery & Sandy Madaris, guitars by
> > > Brian Mallard. Paintings by George Sulzbach:http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9uGY157cpiU- Hide quoted text -
> > >
> > > - Show quoted text -
> > nice quote.
>
> True, "Quote of the Day" worthy.
>

This proved to be an interesting thread.

Will Donkey was still making inane non-comments ("Nice poem." As if it were somehow up to him to identify it as a poem). As Karla wrote: "A nice quote to have around when one doesn't feel like commenting. I doubt Burroughs meant it as a 'get out of jail free' card for those who can't."

And Stink was posting Off-Topic links to his (cough!) artwork -- as part of a (cough!) musical video featuring Donkey, Duckie and Handy Sandy.

It seems that back in the day, our Donkey and Brian Mallard were brother ducks: Goober Duck Will "Wannabe of Wannabes" Dockery.

As to the poem in question: it struck me as... meh.

It's a chopped prose retelling of the Biblical story wherein the puns merely strike one as obvious and tired.

Could this be where Ilya picked up his annoying habit of using hyphens instead of em dashes?

Michael Pendragon
"I typed several sentences that contain truth, but you accidentally
snipped them." -- Will Donkey, on the relative truth of his posts

On Monday, June 1, 2009 at 6:48:25 AM UTC-4, George Dance wrote:
> On May 31, 5:54 pm, Karla <karl...@NEVERcomcast.net> wrote:
>
> > Lot's Wife
> >
> > Her mistake was literally
> > looking back at the holocaust of hearth.
> > The blood rushed from her
> > in the horrific centrifuge
> > spinning down minerals
> > into a block of salt.
> >
> > We know no other name for her -
> > a possession in a land of sin,
> > a pillar in a has-been community,
> > our cautionary parable.
> > Recent excavations unearth tablets
> > of this tale and others
> > but of the running woman
> > stopped a few meters from inhospitality
> > nothing.
> >
> > Who'd want to know
> > grass refused to grow
> > at her feet and
> > dappled deer returning
> > to parched earth
> > tongued her new essence
> > unto death?
> >
> > Karla
> > rev. 5/24/09
> I think you deserve an OBpoem rather than a critique here. However, it
> will probably take me a while to write one. Hence this short note
> instead, to tell you I read and appreciated.
> I thought some of the words ("literally," "centrifuge") would be more
> at home in an essay than a poem; but that's my only complaint, and
> it's quibbling as much as anything to mention them. I do only to give
> you the benefit of having that opinion rather than keep it to myself.

Just remembering this, is there a link to your OB poem?