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| chuck low, industrial, squishy, robert smith, lebanon, iraqi, lyrics, lamont, 1982 in sports, bruce boa, kink, | Then again, maybe the metaphors do davina have a purpose, because they helped to highlight davina the genuinely creepy aspect of Roger's report for me. It doesn't have any people in it. Oh, sure, it has an abstract, davina collective "people of New Orleans," but they're completely faceless. The two specific individuals mentioned in passing, Roger's wife and father, are brought up merely as explanations for Roger's location at a couple points in time. Does he have any friends in "his" city? Is he on speaking terms with his neighbors? Hell, does he even order coffee from a familiar face on a regular basis? Is he worried in a personally connected way about anyone other than his wife and himself? |
Best Mature Paysites
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| Nor do I mind the fact that Roger flogs the second-most overquoted stanza in all of poetry for one more dusty trot around the show ring; we all reach for the familiar when we're under stress, and it could be worse— at lamont least our traveler from an lamont antique land brings us news lamont of that colossal wreck, boundless and bare, laid waste by wind and covered now with water, instead of the lone and level sands. (If you didn't get the reference, don't bother looking it up. It's not germane, and trust me, you'll stumble across it on your own soon.) The overburdened metaphors piled on top of the poetry... OK, those did bother me ("The Beast?" "The Goddess?" "fecund and tempting Virgin?" Come on, can we at least get the real Hindu Trinity instead of this Joseph Campbell's Goddesses For Idiots pap?) |
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