American Football
Hallellulah!
It works.
We blew the shit out of them.
We blew the shit right back up their own ass.
And out their fucking ears.
It works.
We blew the shit out of them.
They suffocated in their own shit!
Hallellulah.
Prasise the Lord for all good things.
We blew them into fucking shit.
They are eating it.
Praise the Lord for all good things.
We blew their balls into shards of dust,
Into shards of fucking dust.
We did it.
Now I want you to come over here and kiss me on the mouth.
August 1991
DEATH
Where was the dead body found?
Who found the dead body?
Was the dead body dead when found?
How was the dead body found?
Who was the dead body?
Who was the father or daughter or brother
Or uncle or sister or mother or son
Of the dead and abandoned body?
Was the body dead when abandoned?
Was the body abandoned?
By whom had it been abandoned?
Was the dead body naked or dressed for a journey?
What made you declare the dead body dead?
Did you declare the dead body dead?
How well did you know the dead body?
How did you know the dead body was dead?
Did you wash the dead body
Did you close both its eyes
Did you bury the body
Did you leave it abandoned
Did you kiss the dead body
The Bombs
There are no more words to be said
All we have left are the bombs
Which burst out of our head
All that is left are the bombs
Which suck out the last of our blood
All we have left are the bombs
Which polish the skulls of the dead
God Bless America
Here they go again,
The Yanks in their armoured parade
Chanting their ballads of joy
As they gallop across the big world
Praising America's God.
The gutters are clogged with the dead
The ones who couldn't join in
The others refusing to sing
The ones who are losing their voice
The ones who've forgotten the tune.
The riders have whips which cut.
Your head rolls onto the sand
Your head is a pool in the dirt
Your head is a stain in the dust
Your eyes have gone out and your nose
Sniffs only the pong of the dead
And all the dead air is alive
With the smell of America's God.
January 2003
Harold Pinter
thanks for posting this group of poems!
ReplyDeleteHey it's Raph-
ReplyDeleteI particularly like the poems "American Football" and "DEATH". They're both so pushy, in their own way. "American Football" pushes you to be a part of something you wish you didn't have to be (the winning team?) , and "DEATH" pushes you to be in a situation you wish you were not. The first insists that you are on "our team", the second insists you can be implicated in this crime. In this way, both set up a dynamic where I feel like I am putting the brakes on the narrators voice, and I'm not sure my brakes are working. They make me active participants, that's for sure. Raph
zxxzooz, you are welcome. I love pinter's voice and ability to implicate you into the perpetuation of violence.
ReplyDeleteRaph,
ReplyDeleteYup. I agree. They really implicate you, and don't let you be a neutral reader. I've read reviews of his plays that talk about once you walk out of a pinter play, you are afraid to speak, afraid of the violence that's imbedded in your speech. i agree. that's where it works so well. he has a nobel prize speech that's great at http://nobelprize.org/mediaplayer/index.php?id=620