I've been in Detroit since Saturday, seeing friends, drinking at the Bronx, eating too much fried food and sleeping very little. Oh, and I've also been composing epigrams by/about/for Sarah Palin. A collaborative series of four line epigrams dedicated to this one time Miss Alaska second runner-up is in the works. Here's a sneak peak at some early drafts:
1.
Keats did not die of TB he died of Sarah Palin.
In Italy she is called Il Cacciatore.
She stands atop Vesuvius scanning the horizon.
Hey look I see the Japs! she laughs.
2.
Sure the Vikings conquered Malta
But Sarah Palin conquered Love.
On Christmas Eve she calls you from Nebraska.
If you cry in the shower it doesn't count.
3.
One time I drove through Chicken, Alaska.
Seriously, look it up on Google or wherever.
Never say you're sorry, never lift your skirt for strangers.
Even if you are sorry just sneeze loudly and say, I am dying of bronchitis.
4.
On the road to Tsang-Phu a monk meets Sarah Palin.
A single pebble scoured by the sacred river.
You look old, says Sarah Palin, and your hair's dumb.
The old monk yelps: Enlightenment!
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