the reverend edward gorey told a most edifying story and illustrated his strictures with finely executed pictures children neither seen or heard devoured every pious word and satan's wiles they upbraided as into the woodwork they faded their elders were uplifted too by tales so moral, stark, and true and sat upright in morris chairs exchanging baleful nods and glares in shadowy conservatories they mumbled their unlikely stories with particular attention to the chances of outliving their inheritances ashen aunts with dwindling dollars unctuous uncles in starched collars comatose cousins on silent settees with tired teacups on their knees upstairs maids with drooping tresses silent brooding governesses manservants with creaking limbs in hallways dark and doorways dim parrots with small vocabularies needy nephews sipping sherries reptiles lost behind chaises longues divas mumbling forgotten songs and to complete the mournful frieze moths who never felt a breeze dogs who answer no human call and cats - the worst of all |
Monday, July 19, 2010
the old dark house (hommage a gorey)
Saturday, July 3, 2010
afternoon musings of a bounder
there are things about being a cad some are good, some bad many over rated others underappreciated but being fought over in public by lovely women is a subject not sufficiently rendered, i'm sure in classic literature heroines of ancient romances were limited to demure glances and did not exert their tender muscles in interfeminine tussles as objects of manly competition they respected a tradition where the brave deserved the fair and carried her unresisting to his lair but in this new world of confusion metamorphosis and illusion with the old ways discarded and mocked and babes in arms immune to shock the fluttering eyelid is no more the maid steps boldly to the fore in darkest midnight or broadest day and seizes on her startled prey heedless of any scandaled glance and giving decency no chance astounds the assembled audience by insisting on her preference this modern maiden, in her glory rewriting the poet's ancient story "has pleasures of her own to give" who've never known them, have not lived |
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)