Was at a poetry reading last week at the Dan O'Connell and noticed folks in the audience repeatedly asking readers to 'do the poem about the THING.' When they got asked, 'what thing?', they just got told, 'THE thing.'
This is what I read this week, just for them.
The Tale of the Thing from Something Thingo
A very definite poem
There was movement at the Whatsit, for the “huh?” had passed around
That the Which from Whatsername had got away.
It had joined the whosiwatsit – it was kind of, whatsthatsound?
So all the sort-of-somewhats joined the fray.
All the definitely maybes from the whatsits near and far
Had something something something overnight:
For the whosits love hard maybes where the wild whynots are,
And the blank blank sniffs the blank blank with delight.
There was Possibly, who dunnowhat, when something somewhere went,
And Wouldhave, in all probability;
And kind of sort of you know like he maybe hadn’t meant –
Quite certain in his ambiguity.
And Chancy of the Whetherthis who was certain either/or,
And was just the same or different than the rest;
He had or hadn’t ridden over all the neither/nor,
In north, or maybe east or south-south west.
A Thing from Something Thingo was also sort of there,
Astride a smallish biggish normal which,
He was like a Rorschach Ink-blot – was a darkly-sort-of-fair –
A bigly-smalling-largish-kind of titch.
And all around the somewhats from someone-or-where-or-other
Said maybe that he really couldn’t be;
But Chancy of the Whetherthis held this view or another,
And sort of sort of sort of… etc.
But the thing of things on things with things and things to do with things
Had something on the things with things in things;
And things of things on top of things with other things on things
Had certain things on certain things with things;
And the thingo on the thing with things was quite a thing to thing
And all the things with things of things would thing:
So the thing, the thing, the thing, the thing, the thing, the thing, the thing
All thinged the thingly thing with things of things.
(Several more verses of the same)
And the which’s and whatevers bounded down the whattheheck,
Or bounded round, or rounded down the hill,
Or roundly bounded boldly in a flaming something fleck,
Or boldly downed the roundish whatthehell.
But the Thing from Something Thingo flew like fire through the air,
And Who-what-where-why-when-how joined the fact.
And wherever or whenever or whatever happened there
Is all conjecture, as a point of fact.
And down by why-and-wherefore where some kind of thingos raise
Some sort of noun-adjective thing on high
Where the air is clear (and so forth) and the something somethings blaze
At some time in a something something sky
And where around whatever where the ums and ahs are heard
And the (please fill out the blanks within this line)
The THING FROM SOMETHING THINGO is today a something word
While ever you know somehow - which is fine.
Sunday, July 19, 2009
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2 comments:
Did you really read that aloud? At which point did the lisp set in? Did you sprain your tongue?
Probably at the start, when I read out a list of other literature/artworks about things - Wagner's Thing Cycle, and the Thing of Things, which is Tholomons.
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