A Little More About The Journal Pulp
  • He was born in Bayfield, as you would suspect,
    The only child of Mister Pulp and
    A lovely named Anne, who died by her own hand:
    Suicide at twenty-five. It is correct
    That his portraits show a brow
    Heightened diabolically, as from much thought.
    But the rumors that he is somehow
    Inhuman most certainly are not.

    His predilection for preciosity
    Is relatively well-known. What of it?
    Despise him for it or love it,
    There is a kind of animosity
    About him when he lectures. He’s vicious.
    To him self-development is the whole
    Aim of life. Governments make him suspicious.
    Politically, freedom is the total goal.

    Of the race wrecked by success, always holds
    His cards very closely against the vest.
    Solitary, somewhat sad, he is at best
    Cut from two entirely different molds.
    An atheist who prays? Actually, no. Not quite:
    But preaches reason, the philomathic,
    Believes in knowledge that brought the world light,
    Concerning which things, he’s almost psychopathic.

    Possesses energy to burn. Hard-core.
    Deplores all socialistic, egalitarian
    Thought. Still, whatever the carrion
    Commentators have come to report — Mr. Pulp: whore,
    Co-conspirator, burnout, pig, poet
    Truckdriver, bartender, autodidact grinning
    That damned hooked grin, who loves to show it —
    He is, on balance, more sinned against than sinning.