Today a song, a poem, several hellish images, and Hulk from hell for the end.
First the tune, to set the tone.
Now here is a poem I wrote today with a bit of temporary hell around me since amore was installing a new tap above the kitchen sink. (All done. Easy with this soundtrack. The Clash is his favourite band.)
Straight to inferno
“Inferno means hell, right?”
I ask amore.
“Ja,” he replies, in Slovenian,
even though he is a romano.
I mean – I know that
but still ask to be sure.
Dante knew it.
Leave all hope.
As did Strummer and the boys:
“It ain’t Coca-Cola, it’s rice.”
“Hell is other people,”
said Sartre, the introvert.
Niki made Devil a she
as if to say,
together with Elvis,
what she learned the hard way:
There’s a devil in these guys.
Here are some infernal images from here and there, various interpretations of hell according to the poem. Only the first one is of the sky, seeing that I posted a fiery sunset last week.
And finally, fresh from last night, here is Luka challenging his inner Hulk in personal hellish torment upon missing two free throws. It’s hard to have 23 problems on your ass (Slovenian, 20 years old, overnight superstar, everybody out to get you…). And yet the refs shouldn’t be one. You’re better than that.
But it’s all good as long as he is trending on Twitter and not some war, attack, accident or disaster.
In response to Patrick Jennings’ Pic and a Word Challenge #214: Inferno