Lawrence Hosken: Frivolity: Poetry: daeHyMnI: A Derivative Poem

April 28, 1994

Morgan sent a poem to a humor mailing list with the text of a poem, titled "dnuorgrednU." (Actually, he later revealed, these were the lyrics to the Tom Waits song "Underground.") I was very disturbed by this poem and set about writing a poem in the same style. The two poems are shown below. The first is the lyrics Morgan sent out. The second is mine. All mine.

dnuorgrednU	daeHyMnI
Rattle Big Black Bones in the Danger zone there's a rumblin' groan down below there's a big dark town it's a place I've found there's a world going on UNDERGROUND they're alive, they're awake while the rest of the world is asleep below the mine shaft roads it will all unfold there's a world going on UNDERGROUND all the roots hang down swing from town to town they are marching around down under your boots they are marching around down under your boots all the trucks unload beyond the gopher holes there's a world going on UNDERGROUND	Big rocks rattle in the wide space 'tween ears a wide expanse it's a place I like though not much happens IN MY HEAD My synapses dangle while my jaw hangs slack under the follicles where no thought ventures and not much happens IN MY HEAD There's a hollow space a private place it's my saving grace behind my eyes your words pass through unhindered by memory 'cause not much happens IN MY HEAD

dnuorgrednU

daeHyMnI

Rattle Big Black Bones
in the Danger zone
there's a rumblin' groan
down below
there's a big dark town
it's a place I've found
there's a world going on
UNDERGROUND
they're alive, they're awake
while the rest of the world is asleep
below the mine shaft roads
it will all unfold
there's a world going on
UNDERGROUND
all the roots hang down
swing from town to town
they are marching around
down under your boots
they are marching around
down under your boots
all the trucks unload
beyond the gopher holes
there's a world going on
UNDERGROUND

Big rocks rattle
in the wide space
'tween ears
a wide expanse
it's a place I like
though not much happens
IN MY HEAD
My synapses dangle
while my jaw hangs slack
under the follicles
where no thought ventures
and not much happens
IN MY HEAD
There's a hollow space
a private place
it's my saving grace
behind my eyes
your words pass through
unhindered by memory
'cause not much happens
IN MY HEAD

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