Monday, November 17, 2008

Vicar-ious Verse: Le Mort du Whitey

Sometimes Mad Movies do more than inspire joy, horror, and reflection--especially for a viewer with the poetic soul of your ever-lovin' Vicar. Sometimes the only way to express the wonder of a particularly meaningful scene is through the medium of poetry. Therefore I present the first in what I hope will be a continuing series of sonnets inspired by the films we celebrate here on Mad Mad Mad Mad Movies. Enjoy.

Le Morte du Whitey
(inspired by Private Parts (1972))

He felt it just before it was too late--
the ozone crackle running up his wrist,
hair rising on his spine--then like a Fate
his tiny rodent brain could not resist
the keys called out to him. Bare copper wire
curled its snake's tongue around the iron ring
and venomed it with lightning, its entire
circumference a trap ready to spring.

And who's to say that something in his head
(approaching Reason) did not see the Grim
Reaper couched there, and knowingly reach up
to take his hand? What future life for him--
the cage of this hotel, Aunt Martha's cup
of tea?

No matter now.

Poor Whitey's dead.

Perchance to dream

Read about the film that inspired this poem: Private Parts (1972).

1 comment:

Tenebrous Kate said...

You know, that's an awesome poem! I'm going to look forward to seeing more of these. Could a lesbian vampire sonnet be in the future? Or--*gasp*--a tribute to His Naschiness? I'm aquiver with possibilities.

Great execution of a totally excellent concept, Vicar!

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