The Post-Intelligencer outlines -
(The second column from the left,
Above the fold) in piled headlines
With fonts of varied size and heft
That spread the burning news post-haste and
Describe how all the Southern lowland
Was sunk beneath a fiery sea –
The awful news: that charred debris
Is all Seattle has to sell now.
The paper tallies up the cost
The acres, blocks, and millions lost -
Both brick and wood made food for hell now -
But ends with this more hopeful claim:
A phoenix rising from the flame.
That makes me feel hungry. I’d have liked chicken, but ate no meat today at least. Thanks for your posts and good night.
You’re welcome. I hear phoenix tastes like chicken.
Churchill, were you fasting in preparation for St Dominic’s feast-day?
You learn something new every day.
Nice one, M-Lick.
Thanks for noticing.
Piglet-be-damned smote Winnie-the-Pooh…
Best line:
Both brick and wood made food for hell now -
Will fit well with “Correcitons.”
And also with Finnegan’s grand Homeric romp of the fire’s exposition.
Now, one from SEP and one from Webb, and we’ll all have Wisconsin steak at our next (and first ever) komplete korrektiv kollektiv meeting!
JOB
Nice work, Mattheus. I like “all the Southern lowland / Was sunk beneath a fiery sea,” but I think the best is “I hear phoenix tastes like chicken.”
Well of course. Thanks much. We can’t all be poets, but I do a fair imitation when pressed.
‘We can’t all be poets [scriptwriters, songwriters, actors, worthy husbands, upstanding family men, Christians, etc.], but I do a fair imitation when pressed.’
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Mervyn Peake, Titus Groan
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Robin Veith, Mad Men, Season 2, Episode 5
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Walker Percy, [insert title here]