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Fried Green al-Qaedas


  FGAQ: Poetry Corner
The Sensitive Side of Fried Green al-Qaedas
Last updated:
2/8/2004; 10:40:01 AM


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Sunday, February 08, 2004

 
[search phrase]:
Fried Beaver                         (Google poetry cut-up #6)

Fried Beaver Tail - MMMMM

This recipe came from my grandpa, Marci. 

MM...
1 small beaver (20 lbs.), cleaned and skinned, cut into 1 inch cubes.
Elk Pepper.
1/4 c Butter.
1/4 c Sherry. 

Fried Beaver Tail - A Marvelous Beast.

             [E-mail FRIED BEAVER recipe to a friend]

This one has been cleaned and skinned, Chicken-Fried inside the box.

This one has been Fricasseed!!!

“Paw's Chicken Fried Beaver”
    - From "Northern Cookbook" edited by Eleanor A. Ellis, Indian Affairs and Northern Development, Ottawa 1973.


10:39:58 AM    on the other hand  []

Saturday, February 07, 2004

 

World

We only speak in code.

The way of our ancestors.
Sun, moon, stars, stripes.
Remember the time?
We remember the time before the deluge. Remember the world? 
We remember a world beyond accounting.
Let not our words betray us -
We only speak in code.

Less than fleet, we flee in droves.

Oh yes. I'm the great pretender. Pretending that you haven't gone.
There is nothing left in this world.

Long Tall Shorty, remember?
Could crack a room in two with just one look. When the rains came, they found him floating and
    feverish.
But still with a song on his lips.
Then they wiped the song.  

"Sir! Sir! Let me try one of your beefsticks. The ones with the pig on them."
Oh, how we laughed.
Seems so..…
We talk in code now.
Nothing is safe.
God bless America.
The order is out - now set those bleachers in the sun.
Move along people,
   there's nothing to see here now.

There is nothing left in this world.
Let's not think about goodbye.

It's just a cool world these days.
That's all.
You put these thing out in the open where
   everyone can steal them and you gloriously live
   forever in ever differing reproductions.
Forever in ever differing reductions.
Forever and ever in diminishing seductions.

We are legion. Don't it hurt to say goodbye?


10:32:17 AM    on the other hand  []

Friday, February 06, 2004

 
So Long to All of That 

A comprehensive statement is needed.
A comprehensive statement shall be made.

Whither, flourish, it's all about the guessing.

In the first stages of miscorrelation there is water earth
    air fire.

How about the time, unbeknownst to you, that you
  were followed?
You had not an inkling, not a tingle.
Second sense?
Not when the first is still swimming 'neath the surface.
A long smooth stalking.
Luxury.

Jimbo bangs his head,
    bangs the door,
    gone before you see the blood spot.
Must be the wind.
Good sport Jimbo, and he did make for good sport.
You were there and you should know.

No statement comprehensive enough for stealth purposes,
   and stealth purposes are all that matter
   after you take earth out of the equation,
   after you drain the water out,
   after you double the air and half the fire.

James (as he prefers to be called) takes a long drag off a
    short life and holds it indefinitely.
Lighter than air, even given the mass quantities of air that
   seem to be accumulating without anyone's notice. Anyone who counts at least.
Jimbo/James doesn't count,
And doesn't feel that you should feel that you do either.

Aristotle - what a clown - Archimedes slapped him down.

Jimbo,
On the first guess of his first waking in the night,
Guesses right on target.

And it was a guess
   not an intuition
   not a foreshadowing
   not a second sense
   just a guess
   and not even a lucky one at that.
Too bad for the bagman.

Here it comes now,
   the return of the earth
   the flooding of the water
   the doubling of the fire
   the slow dwindling of the air.
Hit the light hard, it roughed him up.
Left a bright spot on the quiet thoughts of a dozen
   no-bodies who thought that they were watching.

Comprehensive? So long to all of that....


11:56:40 AM    on the other hand  []

Monday, February 02, 2004

 

My dad was a jarhead, through and through.

He came home after a long tour of duty during Nam and attacked me.

Didn’t even say hello. Just rammed my head into the living room wall.

I had long hair, maybe two inches, but the bad thing was those two inches were bangs.

He grabbed a razor and just kept hacking.

 He eventually got it all off.

My head was bleeding from thirty places.

Yeah, now I understand.


12:12:07 PM    on the other hand  []



© Copyright 2004 Mark Hoback. Click here to send an email to the editor of this weblog.
Last update: 2/8/2004; 10:40:01 AM.
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