photo caption: delivery truck, sector El Ocho, Bayamon, sur, PR
[Follow up to "Automatopoesia" posting, ed.] "To a Steam Roller"
Marianne Moore (1887 - 1972 / Missouri) The illustration
is nothing to you without the application.
You half wit. You crush all the particles down
into close conformity, and then walk back and forth on them. Sparkling chips of rock
are crushed down to the level of the parent block.
Were not 'impersonal judment in aesthetic
matters, a metaphysical impossibility,' you might fairly achieve it. As for butterflies, I can hardly conceive
of one's attending upon you, but to question
the congruence of the complement is vain, if it exists.
"Steam Roller"
by James Taylor Well, I'm a steamroller, baby
I'm bound to roll all over you
Yes, I'm a steamroller now, baby
I'm bound to roll all over you
I'm gonna inject your soul with some sweet rock n roll
And shoot you full of rhythm and blues Well, I'm a cement mixer, baby
A churning urn of burning funk
Yes, I'm a cement mixer for you, baby
A churning urn of burning funk
Well, I'm a demolition derby (yeah)
A hefty hunk of steaming junk... (etc.) J.Galligan
75GRAND/SUR
Santa Olaya, PR