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Gaius Octavius \u201cAuggie\u201d Jones is the son of a nouveau riche Classics professor. His father raised him on a strict diet of <\/i>The Great Books of the Western World, the pedagogical practices of James Mill, and the enigmatic Zen-like musings of his nursemaid Akiko. Because of this, Auggie did not view his first <\/i>Looney Tunes cartoon until the age of twenty-five. This proved to be the most cataclysmic event in his hitherto regulated life. His poetry is filled with a longing for the simple pleasures of a childhood he never knew.<\/i><\/p>\n
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Laudabunt alii Placentam Neapolitanam
\naut hillam calentem or other snack
\nBut I renounce such pedestrian pabulum
\nIn favor of a delight with a certain knack
\nFor tantalizing my palate with flavor profound.
\nOthers may shell out copious amounts
\nFor obese hamburgers grilled and round
\nOr an ice cream sundae topped beyond count
\nWith saccharum in its multitudinous forms,
\nBut I know where true epicurean heaven lies.
\nLet the angels shout loud as Zeus\u2019 storms
\nEach syllable of its name in orgasmic cries:
\n\u30b0 \u30ea \u30eb \u30c9 \u30c1 \u30fc \u30ba \u30b5 \u30f3 \u30c9 \u30a4 \u30c3 \u30c1
\nToasted crisp and brown in its bath of butter
\nWith a form surpassing the designs of Da Vinci,
\nI live for the next grilled cheese, the fatter the better.
\nAs American cheese, that caseus C\u00e6saris carus,
\nOozes from between the bosom of the bread,
\nAnd I slowly draw my knife down diagonalibus,
\nMy heart palpitates and I begin to lose my head.
\nOthers may try to dress you in bacon and tomato,
\nBut I cannot see you in such whorish trappings.
\nReplacing your innards with gouda I cannot swallow,
\nI desire you plain and unadorned, dripping
\nWith your sweet simple flavors. Sandwich fine!
\nMay your cheesy goodness always be mine!<\/p>\n
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I
\nstack
\nthe wooden
\ncubes higher and
\nhigher, my Turmbau zu
\nBabel<\/i>. A mighty verticality of
\nlinguistic nonsense emerges as the
\nanimals, uncomfortable with the new heights
\nthey\u2019re reaching, shift around nervously within the
\nsquares. The numbered sides laugh as the base of my solitary
\nJenga<\/i> forgets balance momentarily, and my hopes and dreams tumble
\nabout my feet. A single tear falls into the etched grooves of the overturned C<\/i>.<\/p>\n
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\u1f26\u03b8\u03bf\u03c2 \u2013 The unrecognized star of the show is second fiddle to a false hare.
\n\u03b4\u03b9\u03ac\u03bd\u03bf\u03b9\u03b1 \u2013 The fickleness of the audience and fleeting nature of fame are laid bare.
\n\u03bc\u03ad\u03bb\u03bf\u03c2 \u2013 \u201cJeepers Creepers, where\u2019d ya get those peepers?\u201d
\n\u03bc\u03af\u03bc\u03b7\u03c3\u03b9\u03c2 \u2013 Two halves of a duck are grateful Blue Cross makes things cheaper.
\n\u03bc\u1fe6\u03b8\u03bf\u03c2 \u2013 One-up-manship and murder attempts fail to harvest the seed of recognition sowed\u2026.
\n\u1f44\u03c8\u03b9\u03c2 \u2013 \u201cA generous portion of gasoline, then some nitroglycerin, a goodly amount of gunpowder, some uranium 238, shake well, strike an ordinary match\u2026 swallow the match so\u2026\u201d
\n\u03c0\u03b5\u03c1\u03b9\u03c0\u03ad\u03c4\u03b5\u03b9\u03b1 \u2013 How they love it! The audience has been won over.
\n\u1f00\u03bd\u03b1\u03b3\u03bd\u03ce\u03c1\u03b9\u03c3\u03b9\u03c2 \u2013 The thunderous, escalating applause demands an encore.
\n\u1f01\u03bc\u03b1\u03c1\u03c4\u03af\u03b1 \u2013 Our hero\u2019s soul departs from this plane of existence.
\n\u03bb\u03ad\u03be\u03b9\u03c2 \u2013 \u201cI know, I know, but I can only do it once.\u201d
\n\u03ba\u03ac\u03b8\u03b1\u03c1\u03c3\u03b9\u03c2 \u2013 With tears in our eyes and laughter in our hearts,
\nWe are glad our master is beloved, however much it smarts.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
A Childhood Triptych Gaius Octavius \u201cAuggie\u201d Jones is the son of a nouveau riche Classics professor. His father raised him on a strict diet of The Great Books of the Western World, the pedagogical practices of James Mill, and the enigmatic Zen-like musings of his nursemaid Akiko. Because of this, Auggie did not view his … Continue reading A Childhood Triptych<\/span>