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I'm too wacky to be hip.

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      ------------------------------------ There was a large painting of Evel Knievel shaking hands with Richard Nixon. It hung in the Mayors office. Late one evening after everyone went home. I took it down to the lab. I zoomed in on Evel’s left eye a 100x and enhanced it. It was an address. I went to the address. It was a modest, 1970’s style, split level ranch home in the suburbs.

      ----------------------------------- Inside I found a dead parrot lying on a waterbed. I revived the parrot with some saltines and adrenaline. We became good friends. The parrots name was Randy. One night a few years later while Randy and me played Gin Rummy, he sang me a song about a fire. The title of this blog was never mentioned but I sensed it, and Randy confirmed it by giving me ‘THE LOOK’.

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          • November 9, 2012 8:48 pm

            I have been telling my phone to translate the names of poets from French into English and it has given me these translations:

            :

            Emily Dickinson: American pie

            Walt Whitman: yourself

            Langston Hughes: stencil

            Guillaume Apollinaire: I have an intranet

            Sylvia Plath: worry

            Gertrude Stein: tab Paris

            William Carlos Williams: weemove nothing

            Marianne Moore: however

            Marina Tsvetaeva: but puts out

            William Blake: yeah dude

            Harryette Mullen: not create or

            Wallace Stevens: paresthesia

            (This is my new favorite game.)

            fun with robots!

            187 notes Filed under:  poetry, translation, lit, prose,.
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          by Peter Vidani. For .
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