Saturday, October 01, 2005

Quoth the Hammer


Nevermore.

With all respect to Edgar Poe, who's work I love and admire without reserve...

Once upon a bender bleary, while I pondered, weak and beery,
Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore,


With my nod on, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,
(Actually more like a serious bitch-slapping),

...smacking at my chamber door.
”WTF," I mumbled, "I’m on vacation! Ask Dick; he runs the nation.
Get off my ass and let Karl do it," I loud and soddenly swore.

Ah, distinctly I remember, it was in the bleak September,
And every fucktard, camp-following member had been given his sinecure.

Eagerly I wished the morrow; vainly I had sought to borrow
Chinese cash or some “Aw Shucks” Charisma from the the lost Gipp-er,.
For the Smilin’, Beguilin’ Monster who could sell our Republican Manure,
Dead and gone forevermore.

And the silken sad uncertain rustling of each voting booth curtain
Thrilled me---filled me electoral delirium tremens throughout all of 2004;
So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood bleating,
" 'Tis some Pioneer Contributor, or Halliburtoning Corporate whore
Or another dimwit frat rat trollop sporting a Santorum coiffure

...This it is, and nothing more."

The Stoli shooters grew stronger; and hesitating no longer,
"Dicky?" said I, "Condi? Or is that Turdblossom? I recognize the spoor...
But the fact is, I was drinkin’, getting good and stinkin’
And so faintly you came tapping, tapping at my chamber door,
That I scarce was sure I heard you." Here I opened wide the door;---
Darkness there, and nothing more.

Deep into the darkness peering, long I stood there, snarling, sneering
Jerking off to Armageddon dreams no one ever dared to dream before;
But the silence was unbroken –- no Condi or other token --
And the only word there spoken was the whispered word, "2004?",
This I whispered, and an echo murmured back the word," 2004!"
Merely this, and nothing more.

Back into my bottle turning, all the Jim Beam I’d guzzled burning,
Soon again I heard a tapping, something louder than before,
"Surely," said I, "surely, that is Rumsfled with a briefing.
That will disassemble that bitch Sheehan’s beefing.
Let my heart stop Cheneying a moment, and this mystery explore.
" 'Tis just old crazy Rummy, and nothing more."

Open here I flung the shutter, when, with many a hiss and splutter,
In there stepped a mangy Hammer, of the Mandate days of yore.
Not an ounce of sense made he; not a minute stopped or stayed he;
But with Death Skull grimance, perched above my chamber door.
Shat upon a bust of Nixon, just above my chamber door,
Shat, and sat, and nothing more.

This Sugarland turd was so badly freaking, into my pants I went leaking,
Shocked by the deranged and murderousness of the countenance it wore,
"Though thy Majorityhood be shorn and shave," I said, "you are still craven,
Ghastly, grim, and wretched Hammer, rampaging like a rabid boar.
What the fuck do I do now that my assassin's been shown the door?"
Quoth the Hammer, "Nevermore."

Much I marveled as this insanely ranting Dale Gribble spoke so plainly,
Though it’s answer little meaning, little veracity bore;
For we cannot help agreeing that no living human being
Would not projectile hurl upon seeing this two-legged offal above his chamber door,
A Christopathic beast upon the sculptured bust above his chamber door,
That can’t say shit but "Nevermore."

But the Hammer, a skulking minor demon, spoke only of his venom
Hissing that one word, as if his soul were stabbed with skewers.
Nothing further then he uttered; his heart was tightly shuttered;
Til I scarcely more than muttered, "How can I enjoy this Dewars?
Who shall ram my mandate now, through Congress' sewers?"
To which DeLay said, "Nevermore."

Like the thousand promises I’d broken, his word was oily spoken,
"Doubtless," said I, "what it utters is its only stock and store."
Bred from drooling Texas losers, friend of low-wattage crooks and boozers
Partied fast and kneecapped faster, till his lies one burden bore ---
Till the dirges of his hope that melancholy burden bore
Of "Never---nevermore."

But the Hammer still berserking looked into my dank soul smirking,
So Karl broke it down for me in little words of two syllables, no more.
”Your polls are a’sinking, on ice your lies are stinking
Iraq and Katrina the public are finally a’linking, and now comes this loony Texas hoor -
This grim, ungainly, ghastly, gaunt and ominous Sugarland hoor
So guess what he means by "Nevermore"?”

And the media scrum grew denser, now fueled by a Grand Jury’s censure
Wrought by a righteous prosecutor who ain’t taking this shit no more.
"Wretch," I cried, "now it’s all for nothing. For nothing I cheated Albert Gore.
So get me three fingers of two-cents-plain that I may forget by apotheotic 2004!
Drink and drink and puke and drink and forget my apotheotic 2004!
Quoth the Hammer, "Nevermore!"

"You For-Profit, agenda-killing jag off" said I, "Faith-based pimp of Abramoff!
By that Dobson that bends us over -- by that God we both abhor--
Is there in the cushions where we shine our asses, even one dime of my political assets?
A whiff of my miracle Mandate year, which Pope Gregor named 2004 ---
My moment on the Mountain, COBOL programmers call Y2K-plus-four?
Quoth the Hammer, "Nevermore."

"Shut up you fucking loser!" I shrieked, upstarting --
"Go back to offing roaches you salad tossing, Albatrossing spore!
Leave no poo stripe as a token of that lie thy soul hath spoken!
Leave my binginess unbroken! Leave me a political Debtor!
Take thy dick from out my mouth, and take thy form from off my door!"
Quoth the Hammer, "Nevermore."

But the Hammer, never quitting, still is sitting, still is shitting
Down the throat of my Dead Mandate, my ghost of 2004;
And his eyes still have all the seeming of a demon's that is dreaming.
And the lamplight o'er him streaming throws his shadow on the floor;
And my Mandate from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor
Shall be lifted---nevermore!

61 comments:

Anonymous said...

Driftglass, who the fuck ARE you?

You have to be some kind of super-sentient Aldebaranese alien, to write something like that.

A masterpiece.

For true.-

driftglass said...

hey tanbark,

Always good hearing from you man, down-blog and here.

Nah. I just have several manly board-feet of hard-on for certain writers, certain music, certain poets :-) They play in my head like music. Then something synchs up with the wider world and I have to write it out or it bugs me all night long.

Right now I've got Dylan's "Visions of Johanna" rattling around in my attic.

With lyrics like this --

"...and Louise holds a handful of rain, temptin' you to defy it"

And

"...The country music station plays soft
But there's nothing, really nothing to turn off
Just Louise..."

And

"...We can hear the night watchman click his flashlight
Ask himself if it's him or them that's really insane."

And

"Now, little boy lost, he takes himself so seriously
...
He's sure got a lotta gall to be so useless and all..."

And maybe my fav Dylan lyric of all time

"...the ghost of electricity howls in the bones of her face."

I get a very clear, very sad movie playing in my head about ruined Louisiana.

But right I'm gonna have a drink, and there's an amazingly badly dubbed version of Frankenstein on our local college/PBS station, so maybe later.

Anonymous said...

Well, here we are in the Fourth Quarter of 2005, and Doctor Roxtar is making up his Xmas list. Motherfucker's gonna be a little short this year, what with gasoline doubling, and natural gas trebling. Mrs. Roxtar will be spoiling the grandbabies, of course. The step-son and son-in-law will get woodworking and trout-fishing apparatus, respectively.

And that's about it. Everyone else gets a card. Or, in the words of Bill Murray, "Towel."

But as a token of my appreciation for your body of work, you, Drifty, are carved in stone on my gift list. Uisgea beatha for you, my friend...the water of life. Name your poison and watch your mail.

Terrible said...

Great stuff as usual drifty!

Anonymous said...

...While my conscience explodes
The harmonicas play the skeleton keys and the rain
And these visions of Louisiana are now all that remain


Boffo post, old boy! Can't wait to read your rendition of "The Tell-Tale Heart." The undeniable truth wafting up through the floorboards and all.

Anonymous said...

Drift, I hear you, Dude.

And, I sho'nuff read you, all to hell and gone...you go, boy. :o)

jurassicpork said...

This sounds like the kind of verse that I used to publish (back when I still wrote poetry and verse). Speaking as a technician, the prosody could've used some work but the thrust of your intent was spot-on and I could see this published in one "little" magazine or another.

Then again, I'm addicted to take-offs on poets and their revered chestnuts. I remember writing one that was based on AE Housman's "When I Was One and Twenty" that I may or may not have gotten published that would be perfect for Mr. Dr. Sen. Bill Frist, these days.

Anonymous said...

thank you--i think i broke a rib, laughing my ass off.

Anonymous said...

Much I marveled as this insanely ranting Dale Dribble spoke so plainly,




I laugh too much and hate to quibble/ but shouldn't that line read Dale Gribble?

driftglass said...

preznit,
Yikes & thanks for the catch, and the poesy :-)

doc roxtar,
Many thanks. I'll make you a deal. Spoil the grandbabies a little more, kick a local shelter a few bucks and buy me a drink when you pass thru town, we'll call 'er square.

us blues,
well, I am fiddling with a "The Masque of the Red State Death"... :-)

The rains have just started here. October -- my favorite month -- has come.

A month built for reading Poe, Bradbury and Borges. Bonfires and hot cider and sitting on hay bales and listening to ghost stories.

Anonymous said...

but considering the bugman's middle name is Dale, p'r'aps Dale Dribble could become his new nom de blog


and I wonder if Mike Judge knew that

jurassicpork said...

Hunter's posted another good piece of scribblin' on Kos: here's the link. It's in response to Frank Luntz's dog-eared GOP refrain that Democrats have nothing to offer America.

Anonymous said...

Most excellent. You keep outdoing yourself, post after post.

Now it's time for a Futurama episode where Fry and Bender go off on a pizza delivery to the Bandit Nebula and find it swarming with something called "neoclones", which are clones all saying the same things over and over, very loudly. "It's not our fault! It's the fault of the previous empire, 1000 years ago! And anyway, what difference does it make if 40 stars exploded due to neutrino vortexes, the population was all those unproductive Greenies! And if the Universal Essence didn't want them to die, why did It make neutrinos in the first place?"

Anonymous said...

Whatta bouquet! Hints of curdled blood, the Good Doctor, an almost Zappa-like finish...

Chalk me up as another hapless victim of the dangers of drinkin' Drifty's demon diary: Two ribs and a gut busted from laffin'!

ps - I dunno if 'driftglass' really makes an appropriate description of the shortening. Shit that sharp buries itself under the skin, keeps diggin in.

Rock fuckin on dude!

Anonymous said...

Aw, man, that one had me wiping the coffee off my screen! Bellissimo, spiffy and furthermore, smartly done!

Sounds like we both have a copy of "The October Country" calling us from the bookshelf.

Anonymous said...

Come now, Dubya. We must calm your nerves. Let's go look for that Cask of Amontillado.

parsec

Anonymous said...

Drift,

You've got the gift. Do you EVER get writers block? God Damn! This quote from the Beastie Boys must be what it's like to be you:

"Like the islands dot the oceans in the endless seas,
Ideas coming to me in answer to my pleas,
Woke up this morning right out of a dream,
Reached for my pen and pad because my mind was on a rhyme scheme..."

Anonymous said...

Seems they've slapped two more charges on that Tom guy. Money laundering and conspiracy to launder money. see reuters here: http://today.reuters.com/news/newsArticle.aspx?type=topNews&storyID=2005-10-04T001036Z_01_YUE381522_RTRUKOC_0_US-DELAY.xml

Anonymous said...

Preznit sez "Blow me, Tommy Boyh!!!!!".

Anonymous said...

A month built for reading Poe, Bradbury and Borges. Bonfires and hot cider and sitting on hay bales and listening to ghost stories. Now you gone and done it. You've made me miss my rural Illinois upbringing. I think I'm going to cry now. The wind from out the wood carried a different scent in the October of my youth; any hint of it takes me back there with an aching immediacy. Poe and Bradbury, fires and hayrides, even the smell of burning leaves--rare in my current suburbia--that was my October.

Anonymous said...

Brilliant!

Anonymous said...

I am almost speechless... must share with my friends. Do you mind?

driftglass said...

scout,
Go nuts :-)

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Hi driftglass: I came here looking for information on ice fishing and found your post on this post. Although it's not quite the information I was looking for, I appreciate the chance to have a read. I'll definately be checking back in. I'm off to look for more resources for ice fishing. If you have any more great suggestions, please post them here and I'll come back to check. Thanks again!

Anonymous said...

this post was what caught my attention. I was just out browsing around today looking for information on ice fishing shanty, and happened accross your blog. Although it's not completely related to ice fishing shanty, it certainly made me stop and ponder. Thanks for the great read driftglass...I'll be back.

Anonymous said...

Hey driftglass...I was browsing for information on ice fishing equipment when I stumbled on to your blog. I can tell why with your latest post on this post it really caught my attention. I'd love to see more information about ice fishing equipment and I'll come back by to see what you have going on here as well. Thanks again!

Anonymous said...

Holy smokes!!! I've been trying all day to find little know sources of "real" people online with thoughts and ideas about ice fishing house. I stumbled on to your porst about this post and although it's not exactly what I was looking for, it certainly caught my attention. I'm personally building a resource for ice fishing house and hope you might stop by and check it out when you have a chance...let me know your thoughts. I'll be sure to send people this way as well. Thanks driftglass...Cheers!

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