Assez de / Ça suffit / et pourtant

Comment

Comment by De Villo Sloan on January 21, 2012 at 12:24pm

Good. Then nothing happens to Fredo as long as his mother is alive.

Comment by Marie Wintzer on January 21, 2012 at 8:35am

Barzini is dead. So is Phillip Tattaglia. Moe Greene. Stracci. Cuneo. Today I settled all family business so don't tell me that you're innocent.

It's alright Dw, nobody wants war on this side of the planet either. Let's shake hands, and you should get back to sleep now.

Comment by De Villo Sloan on January 21, 2012 at 8:21am

Cherry Blossom, what is this dissent among the families? We all want peace and accord? What are we, to do? Pull out the mattresses? We don't want wars. Wars are bad for business. Like reasonable people, let us reason together.

Comment by Marie Wintzer on January 21, 2012 at 5:21am

You can be grateful for the Treaty, DW, it might be your saving grace (it might).

Swimming in a fish bowl

Comment by De Villo Sloan on January 21, 2012 at 4:07am

Comment by De Villo Sloan on January 20, 2012 at 11:28pm

Je suis expulsé de la maison de vison? Je proteste. Nous avons traité de l'Alsace. Cela ne signifie rien?

Comment by De Villo Sloan on January 20, 2012 at 9:30pm

Did they get you to trade
Your heroes for ghosts?
Hot ashes for trees?
Hot air for a cool breeze?
And cold comfort for change?
Did you exchange
A walk on part in the war,
For a lead role in a cage?

Comment by De Villo Sloan on January 20, 2012 at 5:38pm

Comment by De Villo Sloan on January 20, 2012 at 3:08pm

IMHO - the first generation NY School poets have earned their place, no question. Look at the Cult of Ashbery. But they didn't achieve what their friends - the painters, did. And on some fronts left us with a wretched legacy of "fashionable incoherence," as Robert Duncan once wrote. I'm fine w/incoherence, just not fashionable.

Comment by De Villo Sloan on January 20, 2012 at 3:02pm

"joyful act of creation" definitely. And I have so much vispo on the brain right now: It is about the play of word and image.

You know that era in which it was written was remarkable for the poets and painters trying to make something "new." You'll notice toward the end how he mentions the poem is prose. I think that's ironic, but you have that mixing of paint, words, images, paintings - a joyful chaos I might add.

Yes, we lost O'Hara in 1966 - supposedly run down by a dune buggy on Fire Island.

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