Wednesday, August 29, 2007

Spare from the Tumbler

This wonderful wallow has to be one of the best songs of the past 15 years--in all his guises, Eric Bachmann (Archers of Loaf, Crooked Fingers, Barry Black) is brilliant.

posted by George at 9:51 AM

1 Comments:

Blogger Marty said...

Great poetry there, George. I love that song and I've even played it to students as an example of how you could find good poetry in pop music.
Speaking of poetry and booze, here's one of my favorite Kim Addonizio poems (not perfectly lineated here), from Tell Me. The song made me think of it again:

LAST CALL

It's the hour when everyone's drunk
and the bar turns marvelous, music
swirling over the red booths,
smoke rising from neglected cigarettes as in each glass
ice slides into other ice, dissolving;
it's when one stranger nudges another
and says, staring at the blurred rows of pour spouts,
I hear they banned dwarf-tossing in France,
and the second man nods
and lays his head on the bar's slick surface,
not caring if he dies there, wanting, in fact, to die there
among the good friends he's just met, his cheek
in a wet pool of spilled beer.
It's when the woman in the corner gets up
and wobbles to the middle of the room,
leaving her blouse draped over a stool. Someone is buying
the house a final round, the cabs are being summoned,
and the gods that try to save us from ourselves
are taking us by the neck, gently,
and dropping us into the night, it's the hour
of the blind, and the dead, of lost loves
who come to claim you, finally, holding open
the swinging door, repeating over and over
a name that must be yours.

2:13 PM  

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