I write this from the depths of my hangover & while listening to George Orwell Down and Out in Paris and London. The place got packed after a while and the temperature soared. (Temperature being last night’s theme.) So. The report on the poetry & stuff:
It comes from an extract from the LP “Cicciput” by “Elio e Le Storie Tese” which I’ve translated:
Every year a little piece of Tuscany disappears.
Every year Tuscany is robbed of its own land.
This year Tuscany is fifty-two meters under
its normal level of Tuscanity.
Tuscany is on the path to extinction.
Not because of corruption
Not because of globalization
Not because of ungrateful Tuscanese People
Every single person who goes to Tuscany
takes a stone away from Tuscany as a souvenir
and step by step, stone by stone we assist to this
destonification and detuscanification.
Don’t steal a stone from Tuscany.
If you steal a stone from Tuscany…
If every one took a stone home from Tuscany
Tuscany would be spread all around the world
and so all the world could be called Tuscany
but you couldn’t call Tuscany Tuscany anymore
means that Tuscany can be wherever in the world
Tuscany in Turkey, Tuscany in New Tuscadonia, Tuscany in Tinsel town
And nobody would recognize Tuscany anymore
Don’t steal a stone from Tuscany
Otherwise we don’t know where the fuck Tuscany is anymore.
We all want Tuscany in Tuscany and not in Fuckoffshire, New Fuckofonia or Fartsintheuniverseville.
Commitee for Tuscany in Tuscany
Check out John Fuentes’ online poet community
He’s also posted a video of his reading on the SpokenWord facebook page: click here
So now we take a break til September. Idea for next SpokenWord: write a deliberately ugly poem.
I leave you with my poem Temperature
One single unit of calorific heat radiated from a cooling sun
and now contained in this biscuit.
It has crossed space as invisible infra red in the fraction above absolute zero.
All that distance! 53 million miles in 8 minutes
(If God has just unplugged the Sun we will not know for 8 minutes)
This world a staging post only on heat’s journey towards entropy,
its long fall through the billenia
that involves an unwinding of order
an unspooling of the tape of DNA
this universe shooting into decay
ending in heat death
– that state where
all energy is dispersed
so finely as to be
See y’all in September. Keep thinking Ugly Poems.