A Literary Dinner audiofile (1:55).
A Literary Dinner appeared in the New Yorker on April 11, 1942.
A Literary Dinner
Come here, said my hostess, her face making room
for one of those pink introductory smiles
that link, like a valley of fruit trees in bloom,
the slopes of two names.
I want you, she murmured, to eat Dr. James.
I was hungry. The Doctor looked good. He had read
the great book of the week and had liked it, he said,
because it was powerful. So I was brought
a generous helping. His mauve-bosomed wife
kept showing me, very politely, I thought,
the tenderest bits with the point of her knife.
I ate--and in Egypt the sunsets were swell;
The Russians were doing remarkably well;
had I met a Prince Poprinsky, whom he had known
in Caparabella, or was it Mentone?
They had traveled extensively, he and his wife;
her hobby was People, his hobby was Life.
All was good and well cooked, but the tastiest part
was his nut-flavored, crisp cerebellum. The heart
resembled a shiny brown date,
and I stowed all the studs on the edge of my plate.
Tan jóvenes, las estrellas | So Young, The Stars
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Tan jóvenes, las estrellas Cuando miro este cieloque llena nuestras
nochescon su brillante luna de otoño colgando entre las estrellas,pienso en
nuestras bo...
2 weeks ago
1 comment:
Hah, no I didn't. I think it's because Brenda just linked to the blog itself, not a specific post, so the link shows up on the latest post.
Speaking of zombies, you must have seen Shaun of the Dead by now. If you haven't, you should.
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