pahavit (pahavit) wrote,
pahavit
pahavit

Babelfishing Poetry: "You Supply Our Other Snout"

Babelfishing Poetry: "You Supply Our Other Snout"


I hope you've all been fine and well? No upsets? No disasters? No tornadoes, floods, unexpected sinkholes, avalanches, mudslides, blizzards, hailstorms, lightning strikes, hurricanes, earthquakes, wildfires, tsunamis, volcanoes, sandstorms, alien abductions, toxic spills?  I hope not, I really do.  Because that would be ghastly, it really would.

But you know what's not ghastly? More Babelfishing poetry, where I take song lyrics, run them through an on-line translator such as (but not necessarily) Babelfish, goof around with the punctuation a bit, and wind up with a quirky kind of poem.

This week it's the sultry "Fever" (listen to R&B singer Little Willie John's original version here, or listen to jazz chanteuse Peggy Lee's torchy lounge interpretation here, or listen to an intense interpretation, with a jarring and totally unnecessary key change in the middle, by Ray Peterson and his amazing four-octave voice here, or listen to soul singer Dee Clark's melodramatic version here, or listen to garage/punk band The Cramps' spare, spooky interpretation here, or watch video of Rita Moreno trying to sing the song on the Muppet Show here).  Enjoy. 


You Supply Our Other Snout

We pay kind wisdom the way we love you forever.
Ordinary spark of
having a personal human hands,
hard-published stoves received from people.

Moonlight filling capacity child.
Irradiation of title.
Empress strange, our ignorance of road management.

Or
owner.
Yes,
refrain on years open starting.

Dense European credit, formerly in love.
Formerly, our other nurses reach et al.
This self-hug hugging completion other,
my woman-fury and outlined.

You supply our
other snout.
Another knock,
search the axon-tweaked degree,
published hot, another DUI, personal mix of brave.

We supply
(last supply) my snout.
Non-
a big advance, our
on the night of
however in my eyes, kind passion pottery.


.
Tags: babelfishing, poem
Subscribe
Comments for this post were disabled by the author