A few words about this poem. I wrote it the summer I got my pilot’s license (2007). I couldn’t sleep one night that summer, so I went downstairs and started surfing wikipedia. I ended up writing a poem using the random article feature–every article that popped up got included in the poem in some way, in order. See if you can spot the articles!
instead of fries and ketchup
wiki trickles by
sings a song of summertime
porgy and bess, seminary style.
It is a well known fact, honey child
sweet as wheat, milk mild,
that tigers are better-looking.
now don’t talk back, sweet baby, don’t talk back
that algorithm’s gonna echo
all across the pony canyon
to where the night stallions run in Siam
Demodand, dandy baby demodand
do dungeons, dandy demodand,
don’t dragons disturb you?
And who do you send your prayers to,
when those shrieking terror fiends
fall upon your friends,
bantam, feather, heavyweight
disaster dandy dreamer.
The magic hour, dreamer mine,
is not just one, more like nine
but 2+2=5 only in those lukewarm technicolor dreams
where the man on the radio says it’s just too easy
too easy to slay the leader with the words he twists to suit.
In that cave of optimism, slavic and delicious,
no one dares to break my babe’s sweet heart.
don’t cry, love, this lullaby was wrote for David, too.
Goliath ain’t got that rhythm blue
russian blue blood banking on Aton
to invest in the inter’ state we’re in, stuck ‘tween god and hell.
I’m no doubting Thomas, baby, fables put aside
but someone lost a chapter here
and we’re along for a ride.
So close your eyes, honey child, and sleep on Mazo Beach.
It’s funny how sweet the sand can be, honeysuckle love, saint sunshine summer
sing me to sleep, saint sunshine summer, sing those 40th street fillies.
roglio del la O, de la O, roglio, sing me to sleep.