Babylon Ron
Update: If you haven't done so already, you really need to check out Bill Blood's "comment" in the thread for this post. Seriously, you won't want to miss this one...
Ron Ikan is sad sad sad... and so are we! Ron is our second-to-last Where Are They Now? Lost Poets of the 70s feature here at the Snark. I've been saving a good one for last, and then we will announce the anthology from which I stole these and propose a contest to see who will win it! Meanwhile, here's poor Ron Ikan, who has endured those sideburns since the age of 4, when his big sister, Lon Ikan, glued them there as a joke. The torture that ensued from the hazing he received from his preschool playmates turned Ron into a poet -- in time, a working man's poet -- full of mind-numbingly unmusical declarative sentences and ire toward the film industry. Well, you know what to do... I expect some good snark on this one, as there is only one left to go: what's the big R thinking in this photo?
posted by Snark @ 11:19 PM
5 Comments:
I must have a copy of this book.
It's words are like supple sunshine, beating down upon my soul.
:-)
I'm hoping that you have been picking randomly bad ones and that there are still plenty of "treasures" to be found in the collection.
"Maybe if I stare at him hard enough, I can change my face to an exact replica of Droopy Dog." -- R.I.
This is the acid-tinged "Howl" of Captain Kangaroo let loose on a planet that only the seers such as Ron Ikan saw dying even back in the day. But, what happened to the Indian crying as he paddled his canoe through the New Jersey Meadowlands?
Where is Monmouth College?
Why Crazy Horse?
Apparently not a fan of Glen Campbell.
writers of inferior poetry beware: the blood has left bill's head. poop, vd, body cavities, asian friends, more poop. he is doing the windmill with all six tentacles and he is coming for you, yowling like chubaka
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