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Return of the Ticket Poetry
July 23rd, 2008 by witherow
The following was left as a response to my last post, but I thought it deserved to be seen here. Thanks go to Tim, I mean, Walt, Bump.
Out of the darkness, endlessly typing,
Out of the mocking burnt trope, the musical chuckle,
Out of the night mail midnight
Over the sterile sand volleyball courts, where psmith’s tickets wandered
Bold-typed, unbound,
Down from the hallowed founder,
Up from the mystic fountains that play dancing and twirling by the founder’s grave,
Out from the hedges of brick and iron fences
From the memories of the bards that chanted to you,
From the voiced struggles of poets long dead and living,
From the thousands laughters of your heart,
From within dusky classroom halls
From such, you, by your smiles and tears a little girl again,
Singer of joy and fear, uniter of spectator and play,
Facing both the world of truth and illusion
An entertaining reminiscence sing.
–Walt Bump
I’m not 100% percent sure what all it’s saying, which means Tim imitated Walt Whitman very accurately 
Posted in Poetry that oughtn't | tagged parody, poetry, walt whitman | | 1 Comments
