Babelfishing Poetry: "The Drain Valve"

Babelfishing Poetry: "The Drain Valve"


Hello, how are you?  How was your week?  I hope it was better than mine (odds are it was; mine was chock-full of stressful, unhappy, and utterly crap-tastic events).  Nevertheless, it's time for more Babelfishing poetry, where I take song lyrics, run them through an on-line translator such as (but not necessarily) Babelfish, revise the punctuation a bit, and wind up with a quirky kind of poem.

This week's song, from those irrepressible hiphop imps the Beastie Boys, is "Sabotage" (lyrics advisory: f-bomb) (watch video here).  Enjoy. 


The Drain Valve

No, I don't know what you plan.
The drain valve.
I can't stand it when I'm swinging
a new crystal ball game.
Then, sit back, and if so, why worry about.
Convicted knife in my hand.
Oh God, and them that were possessed with this illusion.
And then: "vandalism."

This will come to you, l guess.
And you can bet we'll be valid
if you plan to make the phantom
a short Ned and subversive activities.

Well, now, I'm back on the wall.
We all need to leave the mystery of your blood.

I'm swinging when I can't stand this place.
Find the King belonged to the all, belonged to the embarrassed face.
But a mistake or a sharp punch and channel.
Flying is the busy road of wealth,
and there'll be no way to him
when plotted, those who destroy anything.


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