Inhuman Swill | Blog | William Shunn
Page 3
Why is my blog called Inhuman Swill? Because you can unscramble the pieces to make William Shunn.

Springtime in Manhattan

| No Comments
          

Tourists in Times Square
Blocking the sidewalk to gape
At an ambulance

Full entry

Taxonomy

| No Comments
          

Little neighbor girl
Waving to a cardinal:
"Parrot! Hi, parrot!"

Full entry
          
This poem debuted live at Tuesday Funk #48 in Chicago on September 4, 2012, the same day it was written. I've submitted it to a few editors since then, but since they (probably sensibly) turned it down, my birthday present to myself is to publish it here.

It was the early 23rd and I was just the latest turd
Of a miner to get dumped on Harkin's Moon.
I had finished my first shift and took the slow repulsor lift
Up to a weightless bar called Betsy's Grand Saloon.

We were sipping bulbs of beer in artificial atmosphere
And watching servers flit around that hollow space.
My hair still caked with sand, I said the place it sure was grand,
And my new buddies smirked and pointed 'cross the place.

"You see that mope sitting alone like some sad king up on his throne?"
They said. "That bastard is the grandest of the grand.
And if you go and ask him why and make it back, why, then we'll buy
Your drinks all night, and we'll know you're a real man."

Full entry

Share the wealth

| No Comments
          

Homeless man feeding
his McDonald's French fries to
pigeons. Share the wealth.

Full entry

Just resting

| No Comments
          

Dead squirrel lies prone,
Chin resting on its two paws.
Looks like it's sleeping.

Full entry

4 across

| No Comments
          

senior citizens
holding hands like preschoolers
blocking the sidewalk

Full entry

Memory Lane

| No Comments
          

Their former stoop
She strains at the leash,
Trying to turn the corner.
"Not that way," I say.

But Ella insists,
So I give in and follow.
Not that big a deal.

This short, narrow lane,
It's a valid path back home,
Not such a detour.

Along the sidewalk
We rush, my arm stretched out straight,
Not pausing to sniff.

Full entry

The trade-off

| No Comments
          

Maggie Thatcher's dead,
but so is Roger Ebert.
Always a trade-off.

Full entry

Signs of spring

| No Comments
          

Signs of spring by shunn, on Flickr
cigar aroma
wafting in from the golf course
signals that it's spring

Full entry
          

book_of_mormon_poster.jpg
It used to be that when people would find out I'm a former Mormon, they'd ask me whether or not I watch Big Love and how closely it matches my experience of growing up in Utah. (Answers: "Yes" and "Not much.") Over the past year, though, that has changed. Now they ask whether or not I've seen The Book of Mormon.

The answer to that is yes. In fact, as soon as the Broadway production was announced, Laura and I started making plans to visit New York and see it. With my background, how could we not? We put together a group of friends that included my agent and got tickets for April 9th, about two weeks after the show's official opening. I bought our tickets early enough that it wasn't hard to get seats for a group of eight on our preferred date. But by the time we actually saw it, the hype had revved up to such a wild extent that people were asking us how on earth we'd managed to score tickets.

The Book of Mormon—from South Park creators Trey Parker and Matt Stone and Avenue Q co-creator Robert Lopez—was the most celebrated new musical of the 2011 Broadway season, and it's easy to see why. It has everything an audience in search of some dangerous New York City titillation could ask for—dirty words, blasphemy, violence, Mormons, sexual innuendo, frequently all crammed together into catchy production numbers—all consumable from the relative safety of a plush theater seat. It's been a giant hit with crowds and critics alike, landing nine Tony Awards (including Best Musical), five Drama Desk Awards (including Outstanding Musical), and who knows how many best-stuff-of-the-year lists. It kicks off a national tour this August, and a Chicago production will take up residence in the Bank of America Theatre this December. People are falling all over themselves to tell you how good it is.

Is it really that good? I don't think so. Did I enjoy it? Yes, to an extent. Was it funny? Yes, to an extent. Was it anything like my experience as a missionary? Yes—but to a very small, almost irrelevant extent.

Full entry