Inflammatory Writ
(专辑: The Milk-Eyed Mender - 2004)
Oh, where is your inflammatory writ Your text that would incite a
light, be lit Our music deserving devotion unswerving Cry "Do I
deserve her?" with unflagging fervor Well, no we do not, if we cannot get over it But what's it mean when suddenly we're spent, tell me true Ambition came and reared its head, and went far from you Even mollusks have weddings, though solemn and leaden But you dirge for the
dead, take no jam on your bread Just a
supper of salt and a
waltz through your empty bed And all at once it came to me And I
wrote and hunched 'till four-thirty But that vestal light It burns out with the
night In spite of all the
time that we spent on it On one bedraggled ghost of a
sonnet While outside, the
wild boars root Without bending a
bough underfoot Oh it breaks my heart I
don't know how they do it So don't ask me And as for my inflammatory writ Well, I
wrote it and I
was not inflamed one bit Advice from the
master derailed that disaster He said "Hand that pen over to me, poetaster!" While across the
great plains, keening lovely and awful Ululate the
last Great American Novels An unlawful lot, left to stutter and freeze, floodlit But at least they didn't run, to their undying credit