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Cornfedtrouble: Cheese County Almanac


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Location: Volga, SD, United States

Friday, August 31, 2007

Cheese County Almanac

...with all due respect to Aldo Leopold

Tillamook Culture
A weblog poet and a milk cow had a romance
their mooning meta4 eyes were compatible

Together they avoided all paths with stones,
took liberties with their mooing and ahhing.

The poet found sniffing methane intoxicating,
it was, quite unpredictably, a perfect scheme!

They chewed the cud and passed the days
never once suspecting the calamity awaiting—

once the cow confuted animal husbandry
the blogpo sold his semen lyrics for a song.


This piece, prepared for the last of the " ‘Poetry Thursday’" posting, displays a number of things I like to accomplish in a poem. Thus a bit reflective of what I have done in other works I have presented since running across this set of Abelians. Like Jack London said, “You can't wait for inspiration. You have to go after it with a club.”

I don't know how many of you remember Little Rascals, but it was popular on tv back in the days of the Mouseketeers (who i thought stupid). On the other hand one of Our Gang, Alfalfa, had a cowlick and the show was known for it misdirection, puns and clever wordplay. Cowlick: I love this quote from Wikipedia, “Many people find Cowlicks to be extremely irritating, as they often conflict with the desired hairstyle.” It is an appropriate metaphor for my poetic intentions, i.e.
A cowlick is like a hair spiral which can probably be characterized with the Fibonacci Series although I might have to be the first to try it. Predictable maybe, although maddening at first encounter, it still makes sense in unexpected ways.
I look upon the cowlick as symbolic of the figurative language devices I like to employ in my work. I have great respect for the Nebraska State Poet, Wm, Kloefkorn’s style and wit, and his ability to use country vernacular to poke fun at those who-know-better. I find myself lapsing into this kind of word play just to imagine puzzled looks on reader’s faces whose eyes glaze over because the imagery didn’t come with a caption or familiar reference. I might not always use yokel chatter, more likely science, homonym or homograph that plays with sound and meaning, perhaps a portmanteau word, neologism or some double entendre that real poets never, ever use. ;-)

Say la vie

P.S. If you look for a "poetry_thur" tag on del.icio.us we may meet again.
or myspace?

c'est parfait!

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Blogger Crafty Green Poet said...

I enjoyed this poem, nicely surreal in some ways, I certainly like the way it plays with expectations. Your prose is interesting too.

2:59 AM  
Blogger gautami tripathy said...

"The poet found sniffing methane intoxicating,
it was, quite unpredictably, a perfect scheme!"

I like the various layers of the poem.

3:28 AM  
Blogger GreenishLady said...

You've achieved the puzzled look - and a chuckle here. I recognised "Tillamook" as I visited there last year - did a tour of the cheese factory!

6:24 AM  
Blogger paisley said...

i live in northern california,, not to close nor to far from jack londons old stomping grounds.. and cows about here,, as the country side,, tho beautiful isn't really good for much else... and i think cows are awesome...

6:41 AM  
Blogger tumblewords said...

Culture, cows and cowlicks. A poetic trio. Tillamook and fibonacci comments add to the mix - a delightful poem and prose combo!

12:02 PM  
Blogger HL said...

This comment has been removed by the author.

4:08 AM  
Blogger HL said...

I love it when the klub doesn't taste the cheese.

4:13 AM  
Blogger anni said...

intoxicating methane...

no wonder i love going to country fairs!

9:31 AM  
Blogger HL said...

Now I remember it was Elsie and Elmer of Borden Cheese fame. A thing like that should stick like glue but no one had a clue.

9:25 PM  

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