blobs.
When I left the house the rain was light.
Half way through my chore the rain got heavy.
The scientific curves of the blackberries
got rounded off as the rain gathered force
and attacked like the motherfucking Russians
I had been warned to fear as a child.
The Russians that inspired the air raid siren
on the grounds of my elementary school.
Soon the blackberries were black blobs of death."
- Blobs, Mr. Beer N. Hockey, 2008.
▼ GENE KELLY: SINGING IN THE RAIN from "A Clockwork Orange (OST)" LP (Warner Bros.) 1971 (UK)
A CLOCKWORK ORANGE
5 comments:
I trust Mr. Beer N. Hockey won't mind too much. I did not solicit his permission prior to posting this excellent poem.
Until I began writing the Dope City Free Press I hadn't written any poetry since about the time the Sex Pistols played Winterland with the Avengers. Too bad for the world most of those old poems are near the bottom of a small town Canadian dump. If I get really, really, really drunk one night I might share one of the few survivors with the small world that stops by my place.
I figure some of my writing is ok. The best way to tell is to read something you wrote a couple years ago. I like it when my own shit makes me laugh. Judging your own poetry is quite another matter. When I figure I have enough poems written I think I'll take to a poetry open mike. Fuck 'em.
I miss Mick Ronson too by the way. His version of White Light/White Heat has always been my favourite.
Beer, I'm just glad you're not pissed that I purloined "Blobs" off Dope City Free Press.
Up here in Scotland we have always called blackberries 'brambles'. I was sure it was an old Scots word, but I just discovered its Old English, "of Germanic origin". Anyhow, I always have to do a double take in supermarkets when they're selling blackberries. The best way to eat them is straight from the side of the road, of course.
'Blackberries' sounds too sanitized, in a way your poem is most definitely not.
I'll bet if they started marketing blackberry yoghurts as 'blobs' they'd sell much more. Even better, 'black blobs of death'.
Thanks.
Ib, you call the fruit brambles? In California the fruit is blackberries, but the bushes are called brambles. I tease him sometimes but Beer is a fine poet and well worth quoting.
Yeah, we've always called the fruit brambles too, but I looked that up again and you Californians are right; the dictionary definition is the vine or shrub. Now, could be it's just something I picked up wrong as a kid and nobody's ever bothered to correct me on! But, no I think most other Scots refer to the fruit as 'brambles' also. Maybe just a colloquialism, but it's interesting.
Whatever, I really like this poem of Beer's a lot. The feeling was instant.
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