Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems,alt.butt.harp From: richh@netcom.com (richh) Subject: RICHH: THE LATVIAN Message-ID: Organization: NETCOM On-line Communication Services (408 241-9760 guest) Date: Tue, 8 Mar 1994 13:01:39 GMT The Latvian In light of recent political upheaval in the former Soviet Union, many heretofore unknown works by oppressed artists are being released. Meniscus and Sons has announced publication of "The Annotated Poems of Beat Zuger, known in his native land as "Messy Pants". Many critics have said, "Of all nature's vegetables, only the Beet goes on", clearly a reference. His poems, rife with highly personal trappings, present many stumbling blocks for the beginning student, unschooled in the events that shaped the young Zuger. Following is a sample from this fine book(annotation to follow): J'adoube Bereft I Traipse with me. And from Walter Reed, where Langerhans denied, Divine a knotty fig. Lupe! deliver me octane: For the auto ebbs, and McBride is lost in Detroit. Whence hope, O forlorn despot? At 98.3, Damn these pre-sets! Till Unctous Sally balked, When Castroil shot forth, In Burgundy aroused, And the sea flowed. II Yon bucolic maidenhemp, whittle Me some choppers--bigun's! My lips are S0ren, and heaven Has no doormat. Old Aramingus collects mints And the snapdragon are labiate. Still Tempe awaits (While Gleason stews) And Plumbjack trades denim For day old stone soup. Now Frottage and Liebensraum Jake is gone. III And come to rest, Morales, Your liable jowls festoon. True, Dykstra's chaw was Riddled with chicken salad, But the receipt was lost. And zealous Catherine Still calls mother, demanding The prompt return of her china. Westward Ho! Part company, And leave a forwarding address With Albemarle. -------------------------------------------------------------- Traipse with me: Zuger romanticized about traipsing, although he did not know the definition of the word. His older sister, Olga, had misled him early on, telling him it was a cross-stitch. This led to his lifelong search for a thimble and a needle-nosed pliers. Walter Reed, where Langerhans denied: clearly a reference to the hospital where Zuger hoped to receive an unprecedented double- pancreas transplant. He was, however, thwarted in his request for a travelling visa and forever craved Mound's(sometimes you don't). Divine a knotty fig: Zuger was troubled by constipation and scrimshaw. Lupe! deliver me octane: Lupe was the Baltic god of fossil fuels. Legend tells of Lupe descending to Earth in the form of a Wankel Rotary Engine and forever being enslaved in a oscillating fan. McBride is lost in Detroit: McBride, Zuger's learned but directionless travelling companion and eager tailor. McBride was a noted disciple of Sartre--his own magnum opus entitled "Being and Loch Ness" is still wet. Whence hope, O forlorn despot?: A favorite song of Zuger's went "Idi, Idi, Idi Amin/ Most amazing man there's ever been/ He be president he general he king of the seas/ Idi, Idi, Idi Amin." At 98.3, Damn these pre-sets!: Zuger wore braces(top *and* bottom), and was constantly harangued by unwanted radio static. He could never get an accurate traffic report. (Note. During sunspots, he *could* tune in Radio Free Albatross, but he hated veal.) Unctuous Sally: a roadside favorite, well-known party gal with truckers, Sally often gave freebies in exchange for sardines and lichens. Castroil: Knee-deep in pommel horse, Castroil, author of "She's No Lipid!", refused to ride side saddle since his history of premature echinoderms was addressed in the travelling show, "A Barnacle for Gracie." In Burgundy aroused: Burgundy was an athletic gal with no forelimbs. Hence her popularity at circumcisions and cheese waftings(Liederkranz). And the sea flowed: it did Yon bucolic maidenhemp: Yon bucolic maidenhemp Whittle/Me some choppers: Zuger was troubled by poor dentition and his lyric ode, "Bicuspid Span", recounted his early visits to Dr. Heimlich Miniver(whose name would later be mispronounced), who would often fill patient's cavities with lawnboy. My lips are S0ren: Zuger and Kierkegaard argued often over the question of God's existence. While dining together, Zuger, in heated report, screamed "No God! Why a duck??!!" and stormed out, stiffing Kierkegaard with the bill. One month later, to the day, Kierkegaard was found dead, strangled by an errant hare-lip. Zuger, distraught over the loss, rejoiced. Heaven/Has no doormat: It was Zuger's belief that while the lamb may lay down with the lion, never ever order stuffed capon at a winching. This is nowhere better illustrated than in Zuger's little-known, yet obscure essay, "Make Mine Chives", in which Henri the skater requests the Dover sole and is instead bludgeoned with a malaprop. Old Aramingus collects mints: Old Aramingus was Zuger's third year darning teacher. His cruel rebukes and portents so frightened Zuger, that in the poem, "Mach Stymie", Gearo "the fleecer" Naporelli, suffers from agita while mimicking grapes. And the snapdragon are labiate: Typical in Zuger's work during his "crafty inflammation period", this line is left as an exercise for the reader, God bless her southern goatee. Still Tempe awaits: But it's *dry* heat. (While Gleason stews): It was Zuger who coined the phrase "sweatin' like a gleason" in his trilogy "Lard Coughs". Scholars are at a loss to explain Zuger's knowledge of Shaker cooking techniques, but oh! he made the best knaedlich. And Plumbjack trades denim: Constant shortages of goods and wares represent a recurring theme in Zuger's early works. In "Cutty Homesickle", Turgenev ignores the theme completely and will only act his part in exchange for jelly donuts and sooooo-eeeee! Now Frottage and Liebensraum: In Zuger's Noel tale, "Bah, Bah, Bertie", St. Nicholas descends upon a sleeping Prague and replaces pi with dim sum, causing tire prices to soar And come to rest, Morales: Felipe Morales, Zuger's character without his own story, played a minor role in a number of Zuger's ballads, ranging from the oyster shucker in "Raisin Me More" to Brad, in "Cantilever Pie". Your liable jowls festoon: oh they do! Dykstra's chaw: Zuger dreamt of being a big-league second baseman, but could not turn a double entendre. Riddled with chicken salad: Zuger's mother had instilled the fear in her young charge of ordering anything involving mayonnaise in restaurants on a Monday. It was likely, she said, that the food had moped around, uneaten, all weekend. In his poem that includes the haunting refrain "By a Buick, largely", Dean serves venison(scallopini) but ignores the Dijonnaise patootie! But the receipt was lost: Zuger, who had a lifelong fear of audits, was fastidious about holding on to receipts. Once, in Florence, he shot a man in an argument over a rival claim check. And zealous Catherine: One of Zuger's passions was the history of his native land under the rule of the tsars(czars). In the patriotic ode that begins, "But my, she's stout..." Zuger explores the theme of what the Germans would later call "Es Muss Sein", as Russia is waylaid by a fearsome henway. Es Muss Sein! The prompt return of her china: And I don't mean tomorrow. RICHH --circa last night