Simon avows: vole-like attempts at whimisical smut. I am, naturally, self-ridiculed - if such a statement is possible - and if it isn't, I stand to be corrected in a humiliating manner.
Here's an excerpt (the last three stanzas) of Billy Collins sending up Catullus in his poem "The News Today" from _Best American Poetry 2007_ (Scribner Poetry). The poet learns of a new translation of Catullus.
Nobody does it quite like you do, Catullus, you insulting foulmouthed cocksucker, and I am thrilled to hear that once again your words have been ferried to the shores of English, you mean-spirited pain in everyone's ass. Without you, Catullus, a pedestal in the drafty hall of the greats would be missing its white marble bust. And so I hail you, Catullus, across the wide, open waters of literature, you nasty motherfucker, you flaming Roman prick. ------------------------------------------------------------------ To change your Lit-Ideas settings (subscribe/unsub, vacation on/off, digest on/off), visit www.andreas.com/faq-lit-ideas.html
