Man R. from Mars vs. Bertha Venus

Well, faithful readers, what may seem like a bit of diarrhea after a prolonged constipation is actually a fairly long-tinkered-with little piece, summing up much of what's been on the mind recently (as far as artistic musings are concerned). By no means is this a final word on any of the involved subjects, some of which I've discussed pretty lengthily on the blog. While I've bestowed what is likely my most obnoxious title to date on this creation (apologies to Mr. Boticelli), be sure that underneath the handful of puns is some meat to chew, which you'll have to do mostly unaided, at least for starters.

One quick note I'll share, is on the phrase "three on a match", found below, which is old-fashioned enough to likely be foreign to most modern readers. It's a superstition that says it's bad luck to light three cigarettes with one match, and though there are numerous rumors as to its origin, most place it around World War I. Supposedly the enemy could spot your location by the lighting of the first, aim the rifle by the second, and shoot the person lighting the third. Some rumors claim the whole saying was invented by a match manufacturer so he could sell more of his product. So we have a superstition that arose from either war or capitalism. As we move on to more ethereal matters, be warned that these two forces may poke their heads out at some point, as they always do, world without end.

UPDATED NOTE: It was only after rereading this a few times that I noticed that within this abstract battle of the sexes there appear to be some references to warfare, and economic matters. Of course, true to my nature, there's a bit of a slacker/defeatist quip at the end. I assure you that all of this was unconscious, and purely a manifestation of how all these seemingly unrelated matters are connected in the laissez-faire market of the mind.

***


MAN R. MARS vs. BERTHA VENUS

parade of motley bands around the blonde,
wrapped in streamers like a lace-stitched shoe;
pell-mell partials swarm this swan,
pearl harborin’ somethin’ secret--
a wad o’ wisdom ‘tween the teeth;
tempest in a d-cup,
busom and then some;
mind your pleas and cues,
three on a match made overused,
once entrenched with a
monkey’d ‘round wrench,
now back on the boneheap
while skins and cynics
reticent to give a red cent
cough up a long
and dwindling lode,
larceny in dey hearts
and bedlam on de brain
roll out a rare refrain:
If I Had A Hammock,
I’d Hang.


***

5000 Words

I know, this trip happened like over a month ago. Whatever. I'll spare you the Mt. Rushmore pics, as I don't know what I could show you that you probably haven't seen before. So here's some kitchy fun from Wall Drug, and if you don't know where or what that is, well, you'll just have to find out for yourself.

Pictures From The Road Strikes Back!

So we were driving along some smaller Wyoming highway, and had the urge to pull off to the side because we saw an easily accessible river. We descended a hill, and at the bottom were the remains of some kind of dwelling, as if the top half had been sliced off and removed, leaving only a below ground section. We ignored what we figured was an outdated No Tresspassing sign and continued down to the water for about 30 minutes of skipping stones exploring, getting our feet wet...little boy stuff. I wish I could entertain you with a story of some enraged property owner attacking us, or some other Deliverance-esque business, but it was just a peaceful afternoon under the sun where lesser poets would say something about heaven touching earth. You might grok a hint of what I'm talking about with the first pictures.

Next we have a lone picture from Buffalo, WY inside the Occidental Hotel. I can't even begin to tell you (a sentence starter that never fails to immediately negate itself) how amazing this place is. This place has been restored to a level of detail that's shocking. We hit the town before the high season and it was pretty dead, so the owner gave us a sweet deal on a couple of rooms. Supposedly we slept where Butch Cassidy once stopped for a night; possibly bullshit but it's no fun if you don't play along. There's a restaurant connected to the place where I had the best prime rib I've ever had in my life for like $25. I implore you to check out the website (www.occidentalhotel.com), and if you're ever passing through Wyoming you don't want to miss it.

The last three are pretty self-explanatory, but if you want captions, here goes: 1. You have to be THIS tall to ride Devil's Tower, 2. "Independence Day/Close Encounters of the Third Kind 2: These Colors Do NOT Run" (starring Will Smith), 3. Jesus Towers Over Devil's Tower--no contest.

At Long Last Pics...

From the top, two shots of Shoshonee Falls (Bigger than Niagra, Stronger than Viagra!) in Idaho (note the rainbow in pic #2), and a few from Jackson Hole, Wyoming, specifically an antler archway, the signage from some old-timey saloon, and Mr. Ryan the dead tree-hugger.

More to come. And FYI, Wyoming is now my new Second Favorite State (after the indisputable California at Number One).