Ir al contenido principal

Poesia de uno de los Hnos Coen: Dirty Limericks

"In the dark, the girl's innocent chum
Misdirected his dick up her bum.
Being told gently so,
The lad piped, "Penis? No!
This is how I've stopped sucking my thumb!"

"'Cat,'" he said at the bar. "Really. Is
That for Katherine, Miss? — Mrs.? Uh . . . Ms.?"
She blinked blankly at him,
Lifted one lazy limb,
Licked her privates, and trod upon his.







poesiadeethancoen



A young man who fucks knotholes in trees
Says revenge is his reason, and he's
Had relations with shrubs
Since the best garden clubs
Snubbed his purple and pink peonies.
Be he victim or vandal or sleaze,
He ignores Pete the Park Ranger's pleas:
Not to put on a condom,
Pete says, is beyond him
These days what with Dutch Elm Disease.

She did not date in Early Cretaceous,
Being spiky, cold-blooded, pugnacious;
And then how many males
Go for vulva with scales
And vaginas so clammy and spacious?"

From the book The Drunken Driver Has the Right of Way (2001) by Ethan Coen. Published by arrangement with Crown Publishers, a division of Random House, Inc.
www.nerve.com

Comentarios

Entradas más populares de este blog

El Nuevo Coloso, de Benjamin Sachs

"Como todos los lectores saben, El nuevo coloso es una novela histórica, un libro meticulosamente documentado situado en América entre 1876 y 1890 y basado en hechos reales. La mayoría de los personajes son seres que vivieron realmente en esa época, e incluso cuando los personajes son imaginarios, no son tanto inventos como préstamos, figuras robadas de las páginas de otras novelas. Por lo demás, todos los hechos son verdaderos -verdaderos en el sentido de que siguen el hilo de la historia- y en aquellos lugares en los que eso no queda claro, no hay ninguna manipulación de las leyes de la probabilidad. Todo parece verosímil, real, incluso banal por lo preciso de su descripción, y sin embargo Sachs sorprende al lector continuamente, mezclando tantos géneros y estilos para contar su historia que el libro empieza a parecer una máquina de juego, un fabuloso artefacto con luces parpadeantes y noventa y ocho efectos sonoros diferentes. De capítulo en capítulo, va saltando de la narració...

Una oración muy muy larga o Aquí no hay punto aparte?

La columna es del NYT: "“No book worth its salt is meant to put you to sleep,” says the garrulous shoemaker who narrates the Czech novelist Bohumil Hrabal’s “Dancing Lessons for the Advanced in Age” (1964), “it’s meant to make you jump out of bed in your underwear and run and beat the author’s brains out.” Thirty-three pages into what appears to be an unbroken highway of text, the reader might well wonder if that’s a mission statement or an invitation. “Dancing Lessons” unfurls as a single, sometimes maddening sentence that ends after 117 pages without a period, giving the impression that the opinionated, randy old cobbler will go on jawing ad infinitum. But the gambit works. His exuberant ramblings gain a propulsion that would be lost if the comma splices were curbed, the phrases divided into sentences. And there’s something about that slab of wordage that carries the eye forward, promising an intensity simply unattainable by your regularly punctuated novel. Hrabal wasn’t th...

El Gran Santiago