in tongues
a flatfish speaks with the lisp of twin rusted tuna cans
a two line (duostich) haiku by:
Philip Whitley
Philip says:
A good fish salad requires fresh fish from an elite school plus something with a crunch to make it salad, which an unhinged tongue could provide on its own. A taut string between two cans can transform them, if not overly rusted, into a communication device between otherwise disjunctive individuals.
QUOTES
Waiting for Godot [ late in the first day ]
ESTRAGON:
Yes. And they crucified quick.
Silence.
Withnail and I
Danny: It is impossible to roll a Camberwell carrot with anything less [ than 12 papers ].
[ note to the editor: does a Camberwell carrot relate in some way to Camberwell, the site of Marmite’s second factory? ]
Philip says:
Sometimes I experience the emotion of a haiku before understanding the author’s intent. I often find I’ve memorized the poem without realizing it and I know it will continue to resonate for as long as my short-term memory allows.
Such is the case with Alfred Booth’s plaintive poem:
Alan insert:
Please play this song as you read the following haiku: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=q_bq5mStroM
wandering
in Paris cemeteries
ne me quitte pas
Alfred Booth
Philip continues:
Spirits plead with the living to stay. The living implore the dead not to go. Both share the supplication that their faculties should remain at least a little longer. The haunting third line, ne me quitte pas, a song by Jacques Brel, sums up the human condition: the incomprehensible finality of death, whether of relationships or one’s own passing.
The music, the assonance and consonance, of Alfred Booth’s haiku is no surprise. He is a professional musician, and an American ex-pat who has lived and taught piano in Paris for more than half his life.
Alan notes:
Jacques Brel
Ne me quitte pas [English subtitles]
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=q_bq5mStroM
The Camberwell question answered:
https://www.marmitemuseum.co.uk/marmite-history/
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