January 24th, 2020

Babelfishing Poetry: "The Conscience Of The Pie"

Babelfishing Poetry: "The Conscience Of The Pie"


Hello!  Friday, Friday, Friday!  Woo-hoo! *fist pump*  Let's jump right in to this week's  installment of Babelfishing poetry, where I take song lyrics, run them through an on-line translator such as (but not necessarily) Babelfish, convolute the punctuation a bit, and wind up with a quirky kind of poem.

This week's feature, chosen at random, is indie folkie Ray LaMontagne's "Trouble" (watch video and read lyrics [click SHOW MORE] here).  Enjoy. 


The Conscience Of The Pie

Management, management, management, management.
This effort may become a problem while it still escapes me,
instead of fear, concern and anxiety.
But many, privately not in the room, should be struck off.
He does not operate;
not to come.

I will go, and we have to recover all time to find your feet.
It was; he and I said no.
Sometimes the oath, but he and his friends, I have a wall.
Not the way to save,
yet he will not make it.

Woe is me; very good.
This, I love thee.
The following is the conscience of the pie, then;
the suit for me.


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