apocalypse; soapbox: Apocalypse How?; "My point is not to make you throw in the towel, but to learn to accept the things we cannot change -- and continue to work at a frenzied but life-affirming pace to change the other ones, before they do us in." (link via Gristmill)
Sing; rootedfool: On poets and bad behavior, and poets with blogs; a tangential manifesto-of-sorts; "Poets -- not the brow-beaten clowns in the MFA programs, not the career-obsessed say-nothings who occupy most of the blog rolls -- have a duty to sing the old songs anew, against the odds of apocalypse. I don't care if the Poet is a rotten Person. His duty, her duty, is sacred." (link via Home-Schooled By a Cackling Jackal & Geneva Convention)
Odds-on Song to Daze of Reckoning
O sing the coming Armageddon
and apocalypse calypso.
Play molecular guitar
and nanotech crescendo. Crash
the cymbals of a wayward comet;
barely bang the catastrophic
meteor with slick extinction
and a rimshot snare. Please cry
volcanic love. Go nuclear
with mutant saxophones and backup
choruses of fallout rhythms.
Bring the rapture to arenas
filled with atheistic candles
lit by hellfire, alcohol,
and killer rhinestones. Lastly bring
this house down with a silly little
global warming song about
nocturnal CO2 emissions,
dedicated to the one-way
storm more drop-dead stunning than
Katrina and much sexier
than arctic ice-melt shake and chatter.
Sing along with all that former
but we’re dancing to the latter.
~Son Rivers 2006
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