Saturday, July 23, 2016

Liberators; Adventures of Zepata instalment II; The general's toast from Babette's Feast


Hell, I (I)  can play better than that with two fingers!


Instalment 2

Zepata dismounts El Dayo
at two on the day of
 coming home
to his sanctuary and
real woman

The sun so hot it beats tremors
through Dayo's hide
Zepata's left hand resting on Dayo
feels the ripples
the only signs Dayo gives
and they are involuntary
that the steady horse requires surcease
from the relentless sun

The shells in the crossed bandoliers
need to be pulled into the shade of
Zepata's chest out of the sun like turning meat
on a spit
their heat searing through leather and denim
weltering Zepata's lash-scarred back
'Law-key they not 'splode'
Murmurs Zepata

Zepata says easy boy
and swings his studded
boot over and down to the ground
and pulls the cartridge-bulging
saddle bags off the horse's back

Dayo knows
it is for siesta he does this
needed  if they are
to make it to their real women
Yes Dayo has a woman too
Stallion El Dayo

Zepata takes his canteen
swishes it around to read
 its contents
smiles and pours a long stream
of water into Dayo's sand-crusted
spittle-dried sneering  snorting
determined maw

The stallion stops drinking before
he is sated for he is the
saviour's mount and
El Dayo has a duty to
the master
How can but a mere horse know this?

Zepata swings the canteen
above his gaping mouth
and waters himself long
the water swilling over his dusty
weather-beaten face
as well as flowing down Zepata's
parched throat

But he stops short of emptying
the canteen
Stops because the last draught
Is saved for El Dayo
who must insure arrival
on this last leg of their pilgrimage
A promise to Real Woman Irena:
Zepata will return

The journey to the safety of the hideaway
and the strong compelling scent
of his real woman
and Dayo's mare in season
The fleeing man and horse
will make it by nightfall
if they rest now

They will need the rest
for homecoming
oh yes oh yes
they will need the rest
for homecoming

When the sun is past its apogee
Zepata and Dayo
emerge from the shade of
the rocks
two similarly stinking creatures
Two more hours
and they'll be home

By now the grade is so steep
that the stones loosened from their
tentative resting places by Dayo's
driving hooves
clatter down the mountainside
 musically like a xylophone

Zepata surveys the Mexican panorama
From this high up he sees far
the land of his ancestors
 who were Indians
 their blood pounding up the mountain
for Zepata and his horse

Blood flowing upstream
Against gravity
Up Zepata's pulsing carotids
 refreshing reminding rekindling
love of freedom
love of land
love of woman

Zepata leans forward and rests
his chest on Dayo's neck
the rider's arms encircle the horse
and he beats out a slow ancient rhythm
on Dayo's breastbone
It encourages his mount

Ah Dayo Dayo Dayo
I loving you my goot friend
We have covered territory together
They have tried to shoot us down
As they kill our women and children
but they never succeed
We take their boolets
like we take shots at the saloon
or at the Jesuit clinic

We take zem and we dissolve them
in Mexican blood
and we piss them out like so much water
Eh, my friend?
Forking A, amigo
Forking A, my hoe-worse

Zepata sleeps again
While Dayo picks a careful way
up the ever-ensteepening incline
weaving switchbacks
like the flight of a nectar-seeking
half-ton butterfly

They come into the clearing
 and the hasty home
made of boards and rudimentary  amenities
 taken to this place
by faithful revolutionaries
who fight at Zepata's side
so much do they love and protect

No one reaches Zepata's aerie
No one they vow as they wait
In their encampment far below
And they know Zepata needs to be
With Irena

Real woman and mare make a confluent
whinnying sound at the sight of their men
Manes toss
Six long and lithe legs rush
 to their long-awaited merger

Dayo's breath comes quickly
and Zepata warrior bold
sits up rampant in the soon to be
uncinched slung-down saddle
a rampancy like never before
One last attention atop Dayo

No plumb line has length
Sufficient to the measure of his
cavernous thirsts
Irena shall bathe Zepata
The mare shall care for Dayo
Dayo faithful servant
To May Hee Ko's hero:
Vive Zepata



In Jutland

For the 1958 short story by Karen Blixen, see Babette's Feast (short story).
Babette's Feast
Theatrical release poster
Directed byGabriel Axel
Produced byJust Betzer
Bo Christensen
Benni Korzen
Pernille Siesbye
Screenplay byGabriel Axel
Story byKaren Blixen
StarringStephane Audran
Birgitte Federspiel
Bodil Kjer
Narrated byGhita Nørby
Music byPer Nørgård
CinematographyHenning Kristiansen
Edited byFinn Henriksen
Release dates
  • 28 August 1987
Running time
102 minutes
Box office$4.4 million (US)[1]
Babette's Feast (DanishBabettes gæstebud) is a 1987 Danish drama film directed by Gabriel Axel. The film's screenplay was written by Axel based on the story by Isak Dinesen (Karen Blixen). Produced by Just BetzerBo Christensen, and Benni Korzen with funding from the Danish Film InstituteBabette's Feast was the first Danish cinema film of a Blixen story. It was also the first Danish film to win the Academy Award for Best Foreign Language Film.[2] The film premiered in the Un Certain Regard section of the 1987 Cannes Film Festival.[3

from Babette’s Feast

"Babette, master chef, had the ability to transform a dinner into a kind of love affair, a love affair that made no distinction between bodily appetite and spiritual appetite. General Galliffet said that in the past he had fought a duel for the love of a beautiful woman. But now there was no woman in Paris for whom he would shed his blood—except this chef."

 We looked up Babette's Feast + Karen Blixen again and the passage we referred to follows below:

General Loewenhielm (speaking of the first time he had Cailles en Sarcophage):

"One day in Paris, after I had won a riding competition, my French fellow officers invited me out to dine at one of the finest restaurants, the Cafe Anglais. The chef, surprisingly enough, was a woman. We were served Cailles en Sarcophage, a dish of her own creation. General Galliffet, who was our host for the evening, explained that this woman, the head chef, was considered the greatest culinary genius. What we are now eating is nothing less than Cailles en Sarcophage.”

The General’s Toast:

Mercy and truth have met together. Righteousness and bliss shall kiss one another. Man, in his weakness and shortsightness, believes he must make choices in this life. He trembles at the risks he takes. We do know fear. But no. Our choice is of no importance. There comes a time when your eyes are opened. And we come to realize that  mercy is infinite. We need only await it with confidence, and receive it with gratitude. Mercy imposes no conditions. And, lo! Everything we have chosen has been granted to us, and everything have rejected has also been granted. Yes, we even get back what we rejected. For mercy and truth are met together; and righteousness and bliss shall kiss one another.”

                                                                           -  Karen Blixen -



Just in (late last night)
from Dr. Tom Bentz
again of Whitefish Bay, WI

Dear Remaining Survivors of the Trump Unreality Show:
I must go
in dread
to bed
then head
from Amerika 
to Canada 
to Antarctica
or wherever Tsar Trump
cannot get, gag and garrote me.
After the fear-and-hate-mongering and cleaving-of-Clinton in Cleveland,
heaving and leaving the Dingaling Don Who Would Be King
(according to today's poll)
an even odds choice to preside over the disintegration of this nation,
I turn in for the night
mares ...
Dead Bentz Talking