The Death of English
It stang me to sang of such thang:
This language, like all others, will be deep fried,
Will die, then be reborn as another tongue
Sloshed in too many mouths. What of
"That kiff joint has conked me on a dime"?
"Them cedars, like quills, writing the ground"?
It's all japlish or ebonics, or perhaps Harold Bloom's
Boneless hand fondling a feminist's thigh.
Source of the text - Linh Dinh, American Tatts. Tucson, AZ: Chax Press, 2005, page 86.
TJB: Prophecy-quip. Lightly end-rhymed, mixing registers—essaylike prose, various slangs, lampooning Bloom—is this the death, or an evolution, of English?
Source of the text - Linh Dinh, American Tatts. Tucson, AZ: Chax Press, 2005, page 86.
TJB: Prophecy-quip. Lightly end-rhymed, mixing registers—essaylike prose, various slangs, lampooning Bloom—is this the death, or an evolution, of English?
No comments:
Post a Comment