JOST A MON

The idle ramblings of a Jack of some trades, Master of none

Here we go, the four hundredth post of the Jack of Some Trades and Master of None. It has to be suitably weighty, and, just in time, comes this bit of poesie:


don’t say Europe they say say Death
Amid a charred wasteland I sit and gaze
At a pink-fringed cloud that’s billowing higher
(The remnants of a long extinguished blaze)
And ancient embers from an ancient fire,

don’t say Europe they say say Death

Europe that flickers and stifles and bleeds,
Horsewhips and burning, gas chambers, gallows,
Europe, history, turbid filtration,
Battlefields, poppies, gravestones, hatred.

don’t say Europe they say say Death

I see bloody wool, deadly grease in the food, black sores, and under motionless
branches numerous infections.
Bones burn, I hear the dew fermenting: tortured trees weep.
In the light I see unclean wounds, the tremor of expiring water.

don’t say Europe they say say Death



This is the preamble to the European Constitution in Verse. The Europeans have voted the original legal document out in several countries, but its promoters never say die. Perhaps the hope is that by mixing rap and poetry will lend it some street-cred, and thereby promote the United States of Europe that is so dearly desired by an intellectual minority.

2 comments:

C K said...

Hey pal, that sounds suspiciously like the rap came up by a chap on Britain's got Talent the other day.

"I say Britain, you say Talent, I say Britain, you say Talent..."

Ok, totally an unintelligent comment. But have a fabulous weekend. Cheers!

Fëanor said...

Hope you're having a good one, man. You're right, there's little to choose between the chap's rap and the Euroconstitution stuff. When will this filth be banned, goes the cry around Europe :-)

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