Selections from Stick-Paul's Poetry Anthology

Good Day,

You, Stick-Paul's adoring and unworthy fans, are in for quite the treat. I think I found just the selection from Stick-Paul's anthology of verse to stimulate your little brains. It says here in the catalogue at the back of the volume I took the selection from, that it was written while Stick-Paul was researching three-dimensional societal structures in Communist Mexico some years ago.

Though the beauty of this selection may be lost upon the soft crania of your societally dulled collective, it casts light on three-dimensional existence in a way that only Stick-Paul is capable of. Your tormented Freudian egos will no doubt infer all sorts of nonesense into Stick-Paul's pristine landscape of imagery, but Stick-Paul knows best.

If, by some miracle, you are capable of grasping the meaning of Stick-Paul's words in this selection, wonder at it... cherish it! Because both you and I know, that it is not due to your swiftness that you have understood, but due to the clarity of vision with which Stick-Paul writes.

Enjoy.

---

...

And oh!
What to your dwellings cast
Shaddow of labour
Crown of caste

Moments of reprise to share
Short
Executed like clockwork

Too, the maise
Rare gift
Plenty of plenty taken
None resist

Redoubled effort anew
Next
A day in which to travail

The reapers tool
Bent
Lift high to cleave
To wrent

Rapt the great feast mightily
Quick
The workers pay is honey

...

Consciousness
the fatalist spake
a product of one's
portion take
as birds their toil
to an end
brings happiness
a birdie heav'n
so it is
apparently
with little minds
and history.

...

---

True, the commentary is blatantly in opposition to the social norms of the day, but Stick-Paul tends to truth, not to popularity. Not that you would have been able to draw the parallel between the petty existence of the inerudital troglodites that make up the material of Stick-Paul's brilliant composition and the suburban sycophant formulae of today's modern "democratic" socialist and absolute capitalist states.

In any case, you, his adoring and unworthy fans, must surely be able to appreciate, in the very least, the metre of his verse. Surely that you can understand, even if you have nothing more to compare it to than your own, base, lyrical poisons.

Aloofly,
Stick-Paul's manager.