Monday, August 21, 2006

Creation

There lived once a ghost called London,
Who shaped the world with might,
His largess is known precisely,
As it were his hands what fashioned the night.

"I will see that cunt in scabbed flesh…"
He said (as told) picking crumbling fang,
While tipping the brew from pot to cup,
"…Gone through with dual-pronged wang."

"And deified by turncoat night no longer,"
He prefaced the bloodletting with tea,
"Her death shall vomit out the land,
As her womb done forth the sea."

So for when he came upon her,
The witch who birthed the sea,
He left with her a secret in death,
And a grave marked "Eyes don’t see".

12 comments:

  1. Yay. You've come back to the blog.

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  2. Quality post by the way. We've hit new heights.

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  3. It's just like the old days. Thought provoking posts from Rob, shrouded social commentaries from Daly and silence from me.

    Oh yeah.

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  4. Sorry, I don't understand this.

    Way over my head.

    Like concorde used to be.

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  5. The ghost is Rob and the witch is Rob's mother, as evidenced by the fourth last line.

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  6. Simply, it's about a ghost (whose mind fashioned the night) killing a witch (who had previously birthed the sea) in order to create land.
    The first paragraph introduces him, the last deal with her death.
    The middle two are just him drinking tea and detailing his plans.

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  7. Ok, seriously now, which explanation is better?

    I rest my case.

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  8. Yeah, no one can argue with a good bout of tea drinking.

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