April 15, 2007: Waste Land Limericks, Wendy Cope
Waste Land Limericks
Wendy Cope
I
In April one seldom feels cheerful;
Dry stones, sun and dust make me fearful;
Clairvoyantes distress me,
Commuters depress me—
Met Stetson and gave him an earful.
II
She sat on a mighty fine chair,
Sparks flew as she tidied her hair;
She asks many questions,
I make few suggestions—
Bad as Albert and Lil—what a pair!
III
The Thames runs, bones rattle, rats creep;
Tiresias fancies a peep—
A typist is laid,
A record is played—
Wei la la. After this it gets deep.
IV
A Phoenician named Phlebas forgot
About birds and his business—the lot,
Which is no surprise,
Since he’d met his demise
And been left in the ocean to rot.
V
No water. Dry rocks and dry throats,
Then thunder, a shower of quotes
From the Sanskrit and Dante.
Da. Damyata. Shantih.
I hope you’ll make sense of the notes.
[T.S. Eliot’s long, dense poem The Waste Land retold in limericks! Ha!]
More like this:
A Nursery Rhyme [as it might have been written byT.S. Eliot], Wendy Cope
A year ago: There Are Two Worlds, Larry Levis
Two years ago: America, Allen Ginsberg
