Lifestyle Features

Ashes to ashes

Could be verse: poetry ripped from the headlines

By JAMES PARKER | August 29, 2007

Lines upon learning of the Russian man whose penis was set on fire by his ex-wife as he sat naked in front of the TV, drinking vodka

Surprised? Oh, not at all. For years I felt
Her fury’s laser aimed below my belt.
As Hendrix with his instrument, so she
Cremated every high-strung part of me.

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ARTICLES BY JAMES PARKER

FINDING OUT WHAT MAKES THE MEAT PUPPETS TICK WITH A NEW ORAL HISTORY | May 30, 2012
As half-assed a form as it can be, the rock-band oral history is a folk form nonetheless, with a great claim to authenticity.

THEY AIN'T HEAVY, THEY'RE THE KIRKWOOD BROTHERS | May 31, 2012
Finding out what makes the Meat Puppets tick with a new oral history

GETTING TO KNOW PHILIP LARKIN WITH A NEW EDITION OF HIS POEMS | April 26, 2012
"A smash of glass and a rumble of boots/Electric trains and a ripped-up phonebooth/Paint-spattered walls and the cry of a tomcat/Lights going out, and a kick in the balls." These lines are not by Philip Larkin, of course — they're by Paul Weller.

BLACK SABBATH ARE BACK — IN PRINT AND ON FILM | November 14, 2011
The literature on Black Sabbath — already extensive — will continue to grow, as we try, try, try again to wrap our poor noggins around the irreducibly cosmic fact of this band.