Author Archives: c.nappi

10/3/12

My So-Called Homeland

(A villanelle to Claire Danes, composed upon realizing that every major role she has played that I could think of off the top of my head has been dominated by a basically dysfunctional relationship. Also, I watch too much television.)

 

My So-Called Homeland

Angela: [voiceover] Does anybody know Jordan Catalano? That question, like, got to me. I mean, I’d had seven conversations with him, and one really bad kiss, and one amazing one. But did I, like, know him?

They stretch your strings like tuning a piano
We all, by now, know Congressman Nick Brody.
Does anyone know Jordan Catalano?

Claire Danes, we need like sauce needs oregano
To find you a male lead who’s not so naughty.
They stretch your strings like tuning a piano.

One crazy soldier, hard like parmigiano;
One shaggy brooder coasting on peyote.
(Does anyone know Jordan Catalano?)

On loser-loves, you need to place a ban-o.
(In Shopgirl, Claire, we saw you date a roadie!)
They stretch your strings like tuning a piano.

Nor Angela nor Carrie has a plan, yo.
Each goes for the inscrutable coyote.
Does anyone know Jordan Catalano?

Both men have got the touch like iPod nano.
But if you’re asking me now for my vote-y,
They stretch your strings like tuning a piano.
Does anyone know Jordan Catalano?

10/1/12

The Tissues of Immortality

From this weekend’s New York Times feature on “Great Moments in Inspiration”:

“When you get to the bottom of a box of Kleenex, the Kleenex turns pink or peach to let you know that it’s the end. You got five sheets left, so whatever you need to get done. So I’ll come up with a line of: ‘Time’s running out/My Kleenex is turning peach.’ …  And that’s how it starts. That’s that quick moment of inspiration — ‘Aw, man, these napkins are turning peach, time’s running out’ — then it’s a metaphor, in a rap, on the radio.” – Lupe Fiasco

My tissues and napkins never turn peach. Ergo, I will live forever.

Q.E.D.