Fart, Yehudi!

[PrinceMyshkin]

But, oh! The morning crept in furtively,
as if unwelcome after the night
I dreamed that Brahms was waltzing
with Joseph Mankiewicz,
a spacious swoop and dip of a dance
while in the corner Bette Davis
told filthy jokes to George Bernard Shaw.

Yehudi Menuhin looked on from the sidelines
looking as if he would never,
could not, utter an off-colour word.
Fart, Yehudi! I wanted to cry out to him:
Fart! You’ve no idea
how urgently the world is waiting for you to fart.

I write to prove my sanity, or to find it,
or to lose it. Sometimes
the three are hard to tell apart.
Words are organized to form sentences
which create the illusion
that the world makes sense:
Subject, predicate.

That is all ye know on earth
And all ye need to know...

[Sweets America]

I love it!! :) This is very good and changes from your other poems (not that they're bad! :p ), the tone is different, the speaker too, it seems.
I am unfamiliar with the names you mention here but you'll tell me more.
For some reason, this:

That is all ye know on earth
And all ye need to know...

reminds me of Cassady's "whatcha don't know won't hurtcha". :p

[blp]

Ha. Well, I think we're just as susceptible to hurt from what we don't know as what we know, but I'd rather see the fist coming. This seems pertinent here, to this poem, where too much good taste can hurt, too little offense can be annoying if not offensive, and the linguistic process of inquiry, of making sense, can turn into nonsense or reveal it, as if philosophising might be something akin to unravelling a knitted sweater/jumper. What's 'real' in all this? Suffering, which is why, popularly, philosophical inquiries into the nature of reality are so often met with a swift punch in the guts. Not a bad rhetorical manoeuvre except that, in artificially hastening the arrival of something unpleasantly inevitable, it also might be described as the height of immorality. I like the painter Francis Bacon's approach better: at a London dinner party also attended by Giaccometti, during a discussion of the parameters of reality, Bacon started slowly tilting the table until its entire contents were sent crashing to the floor.

[blp]

Oh, hey, I enjoyed it, but I don't like the title. It spoils the surprise of the phrase in the poem.

[ReynardKitsune]

yea lol but its very nice