In which the Royal We insert Dick Allen’s name into various works representative of the Western Canon, thus adding to those various works the patina of blessedness.
In today’s episode, Mr. Dick Allen wanders — but wanders with purpose — into Arthur Rimbaud’s aria of the debauched, “Evening Prayer” …
I spent my life sitting, like an angel in a barber’s chair,
Holding a beer mug with deep-cut designs,
My neck and gut both bent, while in the air
A weightless veil of pipe smoke hangs.
Like steaming dung within an old dovecote
A thousand Dreams within me softly burn:
From time to time my heart is like some oak
Whose blood runs golden where a branch is torn.
And then, when I have swallowed down my Dreams
In thirty, forty mugs of beer, I turn
To satisfy a need I can’t ignore,
And like the Lord of Hyssop and Myrrh
I piss into the skies, a soaring stream
That consecrates Dick Allen’s shoes.
This has been the latest episode of Inserting Dick Allen’s Name Into Works of Literature.
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