U.S. officials declined to provide key details about the plot, citing concern about protecting sensitive intelligence sources and operations. Officials would not say whether a suspect had been caught or specify where the device was seized.If the probability of A
-The Washington Post
is greater than or equal to the chance
that one more Saudi's bombed some underpants
intending to explode within a day
or several days, or weeks, or anyway
sometime; look, I mean, uh: he plants
the bomb--kaboom!--in order to advance
a deadly plot. He only needs a way
to build a working bomb. And all the parts.
Instructions. Money. Time. Know-how and luck.
Encouragement. Persistence. Simple pluck.
A can-do spirit. Patience, will, and smarts.
An airport taxi or a borrowed truck.
A roll of duct tape. Some poor malleable schmuck
to buy the ticket, board the plain, get fucked.
21 comments:
s/plain/plane/
what are pants really. . .without shit in them?
A bomb was built
or its components
or perhaps just talk
of our opponents.
Something happened
we can't say what
or don't know what
and won't fess up.
But it happened,
all the same
or not.
But anyway,
someone was caught
doing what he should not
or not.
leonard, rhyming 'not' with 'not', sheer genius.
double lol for both your poems.
Leonard -
Given your talent as a poetaster, I dedicate the following poem to you. I've had it in a drawer for some time, and now seems a perfect time to trot it out.
The Poetaster's Whine
Though ergonomic, kneeling's for confession -
sitting's better for a writing session.
But on the downside, keeping that position
over time results in a condition
whose description almost beggars imagery:
my wine-dark hemorrhoids are killing me.
The poet has it there are only nine,
but I can safely claim a tenth as mine,
which more than makes up for its size by what
sensations it emits. Think the donut
on my chairseat helps to ease the pain?
Well let me tell you, buddy, think again.
I'm not like Blaise, who liked a studded belt.
This agony, the worst I've ever felt,
should not be borne even by masochists,
who'd also want to open up their wrists.
No depth, I think, could be more Stygian
than that I'm at from problems pygean.
Lozenge
I smell Emmy!
attn: rhythm's more important than rhyme.
Eerily is a Vogon!
Scorn not the Sonnet; Critic, you have diss'd,
Mindless of its just honours; with this key
Shakespeare unlock'd his heart: and IOZ
Unleash'd his bowels' bounty; too, he piss'd.
happy@12:02
It's a poem written by a poetaster, stupie.
It's SUPPOSED to be an example of the universe's 3rd worst poetry ...
And please ... don't bring up the "imitative fallacy" ... I've heard it all before ....
"It's SUPPOSED to be an example of the universe's 3rd worst poetry ..."
here's a poem:
eerily has read all
the poems in
the universe
(or is that multi-verse
lol)
OK - back to the lead poem ...
It's a good poem, M'siuer.
But it's opened an old wound.
One would think that any fellow poet who began one of his own poems with:
"If the probability of A
is greater than or equal to the chance ..."
would have had the common decency to comment on the second poem ("The Equivalence Relation") here:
http://lackadaisicals.blogspot.com/2011/10/two-for-msieur-ioz-who-is-second-to.html
particularly when it came with a personal dedication.
But did you?
Of course not, you fuck.
And while I'm on the subject, how long do you think you can fool people into thinking you don't like structure when two of your self-confessed heros are Donne and Bach (not Whitman and Debussy) and every poem you post here is rife with Neo-Formalism to its core?
There multiple times posted a pedantic tool named Eerily
Who droned on and on about shit no one cared about, verily.
One day IOZ had enough
And called EL's bluff
And blocked his (her?) IP completely.
Hey IOZ, do the world a favor and tell Plato you prefer younger men will ya?
He threw out a ringer for a ringer!
"What happens to a dream deferred?
Does it dry up
like a raisin in the sun?
Or fester like a sore--
And then run?
Does it stink like rotten meat?
Or crust and sugar over--
like a syrupy sweet?
Maybe it just sags
like a heavy load.
Or does it explode?"
Hey sexy, can I have your underwear to make soup with? Oh, theyre possibly combustible? Never mind.. What happens to a dream deturd, does it dry up like a raisin in the sun? Why yes it does. Stay tuned for Colored girls who have considered suicide when the rainbow is enuf!
All terrorists get wedgied now. It’s more effective than water boarding.
Loved the poem, Ioz.
Loved the closing tercet. But, from what I've read of Rochester, you're supposed to draw a bracket when your couplet suddenly expands to three lines. That way we don't get confused.
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