Arnold Zwicky's Blog

🐇 🐇 🐇 Despite yesterday’s incident of gun-jumping, premature social intercourse (“April is the most Abrahamic month”, here), this is the actual April 1st posting, and it’s drenched in cunicular sexiness — this month I really really really mean those rabbits — so it’s definitely out-of-bounds for kids and the sexually modest. I begin with two images — not in themselves salacious — and then get down and fluffy with a bit of amiably very dirty doggerel.

The picture gallery. A totally unobjectionable holiday image, plus a theatrical poster (which is, however, for a film about providing sexual services on the set of gay porn movies, though that’s not actually shown in the poster):

(#1) Pottery Barn Kids’ Natural Seagrass Basket: basket, bunny, eggs, green grass (of sorts)

(#2) Theatrical poster for the 2001 film The Fluffer, showing a very hot Scott Gurney as g4p porn actor Johnny Rebel

The dirty verse. Reminder: not for kids or the sexually modest.

(#3) Crude, but definitely regulated, verse

First, to note that though the doggerel is (deliberately) crude and vulgar, I am celebrating, not mocking, all of the acts referred to in it — and I note that there are some poetic touches, in imagery and wording, in the verse, especially that final sweet green grass.

Then, some remarks on poetic form. If you’re a guy and you find #2 and #3 rather arousing, well then, what’s coming in this subsection will be a serious erection-killer; for good or ill, I am a linguist, and I can’t help plying my trade. Respect my trip. (If it really annoys you, you can skip the subsection, but I hope you’ll let me tell you about the neat stuff I found in my own poetry.)

[They fuck like bunnies, the poem. Here poet AZ yields to linguist AZ.

Basic observation: three verses of trochaic tetrameter (SW SW SW SW) quatrains, rhyming A B C B.

But then this is actual poetry, with allowable variations on and deviations from the abstract pattern of regulation.

I adhered to the rhyme scheme absolutely: the B lines are all full rhymes (not half-rhymes): queer – rear, balls – stalls, ass – grass. (There were, of course, many draft versions of the poem, in some of which I tried out unsatisfying half-rhymes, like queer – real or squeal.)

But the metrical pattern, that I played with all over the place. As background, two canonical lines (SW SW SW SW) from the poem (the A and C lines from the last verse; they’re the only canonical lines, and it’s probably significant that they come so late):

And then with lines in which the the final foot is a rest, a silent beat (indicated here by an R); and with lines in which a foot (especially the final foot) is short (S rather than SW), indicated by underlining here.

Lóved cock úp his réar R

Gétting fúcked in swéet green gráss

I need to break off this posting; the remaining sections — on the immensely entertaining Facebook exchanges that began yesterday; on fluffing; and on the film The Fluffer and the two main actors in it — were erased in a computer disaster an hour ago. I’ve been unable to restore them, so they have to be reconstructed completely from scratch, which will take at least 5 hours of work, time that I will probably not have today. Watch this space.

 

 

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This entry was posted on April 1, 2022 at 12:10 pm and is filed under Gay porn, Gender and sexuality, Holidays, Movies and tv, Poetic form, Poetry. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.