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uutpoetry:

The 14 Most Disgusting Leftovers Imaginable

The creamy rinse-out drips of soy milk cartons.
Gory feet mulled with sour wine and park bench excreta.
Gamey Australian rugby-player hushpuppies in parsnip sauce.
You, forever hovering, dressed in orange mutton shoulder
and tuna wind-chime distributer jelly.
Common Housefly larvae cologne.
The cellos we used for ashtrays
while impassioned with mad perceptions.
Alfalfa sprouted from Churchill statements,
served over kitten gender parts.
The five hands of flirtatiousness leaning on ultrafine animalcule offals.
All kinds of impregnated nastiness in gallons of cheetah sex.
English cornstarch creaking with archeology.
Simulacra of the contemporary novel, thickened and slowly poured
over an eduction of imperialist ideology.
Quarantined metaphors ripe with nescience and prolusion,
coiled up with versified death in cattle cars for two years
or five trillion ethnic ruptures.
Subjectivity hormones stewed in Oedipal thematic baggage
and tossed with John Dos Passos universal fluidity.
Neck of goose, powerful and mythic, hung out to dry on
the underside of mother’s sewing table.

art by Karen Constance paintings and collage

thisistheverge:

Here’s the new cast of ‘Game of Thrones,’ and a blooper reel from last season
Game of Thrones is a serious show. A very, very serious show, where anyone can die. Except when they’re falling off their horses or missing their lines or doing a catchy dance down the carpet. This blooper reel from Season Four opened the Game of Thrones panel at San Diego Comic Con, where we’re on the ground live, and it’s now online for your edification.

Wystan Hugh Auden 1907-1973

As I Walked Out One Evening

As I walked out one evening,
Walking down Bristol Street,
The crowds upon the pavement
Were fields of harvest wheat.

And down by the brimming river
I heard a lover sing
Under an arch of the railway:
‘Love has no ending.

'I'll love you, dear, I'll love you
Till China and Africa meet,
And the river jumps over the mountain
And the salmon sing in the street,

'I'll love you till the ocean
Is folded and hung up to dry
And the seven stars go squawking
Like geese about the sky.

'The years shall run like rabbits,
For in my arms I hold
The Flower of the Ages,
And the first love of the world.’

But all the clocks in the city
Began to whirr and chime:
‘O let not Time deceive you,
You cannot conquer Time.

'In the burrows of the Nightmare
Where Justice naked is,
Time watches from the shadow
And coughs when you would kiss.

'In headaches and in worry
Vaguely life leaks away,
And Time will have his fancy
To-morrow or to-day.

'Into many a green valley
Drifts the appalling snow;
Time breaks the threaded dances
And the diver’s brilliant bow.

'O plunge your hands in water,
Plunge them in up to the wrist;
Stare, stare in the basin
And wonder what you’ve missed.

'The glacier knocks in the cupboard,
The desert sighs in the bed,
And the crack in the tea-cup opens
A lane to the land of the dead.

'Where the beggars raffle the banknotes
And the Giant is enchanting to Jack,
And the Lily-white Boy is a Roarer,
And Jill goes down on her back.

'O look, look in the mirror,
O look in your distress:
Life remains a blessing
Although you cannot bless.

'O stand, stand at the window
As the tears scald and start;
You shall love your crooked neighbour
With your crooked heart.’

It was late, late in the evening,
The lovers they were gone;
The clocks had ceased their chiming,
And the deep river ran on.

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