Saturday, April 25, 2020

Riffin' on Jim: Poetry of the Netherworld Remix in the Style of James Schuyler, Sort Of

James Schuyler
James Schuyler (1923 - 1991)

Image from the Poetry Foundation page

This poetic remix exercise takes the titles of all poems written for this month's challenges and roughly reworks them into the style of James Schuyler's poem, Sweet Romanian Tongue.



Drew down the COVID-19 curse on broken-down America
The stench of time breaking down a corpse
We cannot sail away on the asphalt sea
Some prefer to hide in sleepy little towns
 
Why do we follow a lunatic down the road to hell?
I harbor a secret wish that there are better days ahead
Yet the masque of the Orange Idiot may prevail
Too many fall into his trap
 
Steve Mnuchin, such a waspish twit, it makes me weep
I think I will head to Mr. Lovecraft's madcap zoo
Perhaps I have fallen into a time-leak mousetrap
 
Will we all fall victim to the word that destroys
As fools with brains full of love in bloom for Trump
Refuse to get their news elsewhere away from Fox
 
We are unable to hide beneath a lead umbrella
As everything rages out of control like a fire from a cigarette dropped in dry grass
The spirit of the wood hides in pitchy night
Staring at the damage, there is no taking it back
 
"Why would you let this be your legacy, America?" it queried
"I wish this miserable red mess would wake to a blue dream."
The last, best, chosen one went on speaking nonsense
The spirit of the wood wrote a Sedoka for a lost world
 
"These are the happiest days of our lives," the orange despot bellowed
Wagging tarnished silver tongue as the wind lifted his piss-blond hair
I wrote a message to my past self, an impotent warning
"I give you a gift wrapped in horror," it read.
"Although I fear that my words may be lost in translation."
 
"The people made a troublesome choice," I warned her.
my diseased and dying body smelling of wet cigarettes
"Will Mark's train come to collect me in the pitchy night?" I wondered.
"Will social distancing save us?
Or will we all wind up lying dead in a field of rotting pumpkins
As the crows and vultures pick the sun-dried flesh from our bones?"
 
Content coyright 2020 by Cara Hartley
 
Please do not repost
 
Reblogging is acceptable on platforms that allow it.
 
Sharing a link to the poem is acceptable.
 
Quoting portions of the poem for educational or review purposes is acceptable if proper credit is given.
 
NaPoWriMo: Use a long poem by James Schuyler as a guidepost for your poem
 
April PAD Challenge: Write a remix poem
 
This work is cross-posted in these places:
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
If you appreciate my poetry, please consider picking up a copy of my first published poetry volume, Another Autumn.
 

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