(Poem #198) Japanese Jokes
In his winged collar he flew. The nation wanted peace. Our Perseus! William Blake, William Blake, William Blake, William Blake, say it and feel new! Love without sex is still the most efficient form of hell known to man. A professional is one who believes he has invented breathing. The Creation had to find room for the exper- imental novel. When daffodils be- gin to peer: watch out, para- noia's round the bend. I get out of bed and say goodbye to people I won't meet again. I sit and worry about money who very soon will have to die. I consider it my duty to be old hat so you can hate me. I am getting fat and unattractive but so much nicer to know. Somewhere at the heart of the universe sounds the true mystic note: Me.
(for Anthony Thwaite). [ sage, scribe and scholar; translator of numerous Japanese poems. ] "... [Porter's] main subject is the decadence of commercial western society, to the analysis of which he brings a jaundiced and witty eye... ... the gnomic humour of these tiny poems is dry and abrasive... ... sometimes Porter manages to synthesize his view of the entire Universe into a single sentence that seems so 'right' that we feel sure it has been written before... " -- George MacBeth "Elegist, satirist, art critic, historian of the imagination, poet of cats, and the cities of London and the mind, student of the times and of Time." -- Sean O'Brien, Sunday Times. I can add nothing to Porter's elegance, so I stop here - thomas.