Think of that generic indian music you hear in old westerns (Nahhh-nah-nana-nah-nahhh) and then try reading the poem out loud to that rhythm, then listen for the hidden words.

Thanks. This was inspired by the cleverly cryptic "r-p-o-p-h-e-s-s-a-g-r" poem by Cummings. Line 4 is a bit of a stretch. The 1st word of L4 is "Increased". The 1st word of line 5 is "So". Hope that helps a little.

Truly. But all this 'men don't understand women, women don't understand men, men are pigs, women are pigs' stuff is completely alien to me now. I guess there's nothing like living in a misogynist Muslim country to make people figure out their priorities.

Having just submitted a poem comparing Islamic terrorists to annoying mosquitoes, I'm in no position to talk.

The older I get, the more I realise how influenced I am by the whole O'Henry/sci-fi ironic twist. When I want to be literary, I tell myself it's O'Henry; when I'm realistic I tell myself it's sci-fi. You know he's buried in Asheville, NC, where I've spent a lot of the last eight years. The Islam movie is going to be pure visually-stunning plotless ensemble drama. Maybe unfortunately. "I promised that from now on I would write only for the Lord... [Jesus is] the ultimate supernatural hero, the ultimate immortal of them all." - Anne Rice, October 2005

You see. You're gone a few days and people forget you existed.

Oh, by the way I just finished Local Colour. I know I’m a procrastinator but after all it is the southern way. In some ways Bland and poemranker are alike, don’t you think? Was there a little nod to O’Henry in this one with the ironic surprise ending and the title choice? I think this is the best of the two. Certainly the most difficult to write I imagine. One of the few modern stories that I’d consider in my Rereadable category. I've only now come to realize that much of your southerness comes out in your similes and metaphors. They are always strange and colorful and way out of left field. It's a shame the public is force fed Anne Rice instead of stuff like this.

True enough. The worm as metaphor should be laid to rest I suppose. But my mind searches now for other underground dwellers to take it's place. The mole? No Taken. The serpent? No taken. The maggot? Damn you R. Lee Ermey. Taken. Hmmm...Eureka! I've got it. The GRUB. GoeRge BUsh. Whatcha think? I could practically superimpose it onto the word worm. With that done I think Maybe I can focus on a few more stanzas from the Afghan perspective. I hope this is what you meant 'cause I think I really like the Grub metaphor.

LOL Yeah, That was my little nod to Kubrick and Stone. I thought "How appropriate" but I was surprised and glad someone made the connection and didn't think I did it as a cheap gimmick.

It's not just that it's too focused; it's something like making a poem almost entirely out of images of a character named Sexy Sadie breaking the rules and making fools of everyone. Saying that the worm is only bringer of death (where Poe's is death/some grand lord-or-mascot of death) isn't enough. At least my Conqueror Worm is a mezcal worm and not anything to do very literally with death. And besides, I wrote it drunk, that's got to count for something. Yes, I can't think of a better image for Bush at the moment - but that is our job, isn't it? To come up with new hard-to-think-of images that seem so obvious and perfect to future generations looking to rip off easy images? No, it's neither too vague nor too obvious.

It's funny how no part of this conversation has any connection to my life or any woman I know. No, wait, that's not funny...

I think that's because he's mainly discussing the conflict between the West and bin Laden's brand of jihadism, and not Islam in general. PS AlChemy: I really dug the rhyme and half-rhyme this time, and the way your rock references reflect the rock referencing of a million Vietnam War movies.