Pig-circus
See just this Post & Comments / 1 Comments so far / Post a Comment /   HomeThe trial was a pig-circus, he never had a chance.
Bob Dylan, Hurricane.
Ian Mulgrew, Coroner bars evidence on RCMP shooting investigation, Source.
Gary Mason, Courageous constable set to testify against his own, Source.
Gary Mason, RCMP officer had every advantage in investigation, Source.
Paul Koester, Statement of Constable Paul Koester, Source.
Recommendations of the jury, Source.
Gary Mason, Jury's tame ideas come up short for Bush's family, Source.
Knowing there is no relief, nonetheless looking for it ... human nature I guess. This poem came to mind the other day visiting a blog on my list, and this long afternoon, listening to the forro music echoing down from the favela, Morro do Estado, it has come back again ...
Thirteen Ways of Looking at a Blackbird, Wallace Stevens.
I | Among twenty snowy mountains, The only moving thing Was the eye of the blackbird. | |
II | I was of three minds, Like a tree In which there are three blackbirds. | |
III | The blackbird whirled in the autumn winds. It was a small part of the pantomime. | |
IV | A man and a woman Are one. A man and a woman and a blackbird Are one. | |
V | I do not know which to prefer, The beauty of inflections Or the beauty of innuendoes, The blackbird whistling Or just after. | |
VI | Icicles filled the long window With barbaric glass. The shadows of the blackbird Crossed it, to and fro. The mood Traced in the shadow An indecipherable cause. | |
VII | O thin men of Haddam, Why do you imagine golden birds? Do you not see how the blackbird Walks around the feet Of the women about you? | |
VIII | I know noble accents And lucid, inescapable rhythms; But I know, too, That the blackbird is involved In what I know. | |
IX | When the blackbird flew out of sight, It marked the edge Of one of many circles. | |
X | At the sight of blackbirds Flying in a green light, Even the bawds of euphony Would cry out sharply. | |
XI | He rode over Connecticut In a glass coach. Once, a fear pierced him, In that he mistook The shadow of his equipage For blackbirds. | |
XII | The river is moving. The blackbird must be flying. | |
XIII | It was evening all afternoon. It was snowing And it was going to snow. The blackbird sat In the cedar-limbs. |
Tags: Ian Bush, Shane DeMeyer, Howard Rubin, Paul Koester, Joseph Slemko, Brian Gilson, Helen Roberts, Sharon Smith, Sheila White, RCMP, Wallace Stevens, Morro do Estado.
Down, Thread Down.
This is one of my all time favourite poems.