3/15/2023 0 Comments House strophes![]() ![]() Nicholas Niarchos notes that "The Incognito Lounge" is set "in an apartment block with a who revels in sightlessness ("I go everywhere with my eyes closed and two / eyeballs painted on my face"). The poem's ambiguities mount as we get comfortable with its setting: the helicopter both asking and telling " whatwhatwhatwhatwhat" the synaesthetic gesture of the 'boiled / coffee that tastes like noise.'" ![]() The meteor shower he compares figuratively to " these questions of happiness / plaguing the world" is, accurately enough, empirically there, real, and brilliant, but remote, unreachable like the meteors, the questions appear less violent when one perceives them from such an incomprehensible distance. "The Incognito Lounge" is set in an apartment complex and several bars of what I assume is probably Tucson, Arizona-Its speaker, with " my eyes closed and two / eyeballs painted on my face," is both present and not present, expressing but not perceiving. ĭeshpande declares that "each sonnet is a crystalline example of what he gave to American letters." John Casteen identifies the urban landscape in which the poem unfolds: But in the sonnet, he found a home for both his maverick tendencies and his attachment to tradition: He even made practiced, dedicated use of rhyme. Most of his poems are free verse: whether writing lyric or narrative, he was not one for leaning heavily on literary convention. To be clear, Johnson was by no means a formalist. The poem, one of Johnson's fifteen published sonnets, exhibits a degree of fidelity to these traditional literary forms unusual to Johnson's oeuvre. "The Incognito Lounge" is a sonnet composed of nine " strophes" or stanzas. The poem has appeared in the Carnegie Mellon Classic Contemporary Series in 2008. We knew that our target was in the Noma quarter, 50 miles west of a location called the crumbling tower, and began our journey through the darkness.The Incognito Lounge is a sonnet by Denis Johnson and first published his collection The Incognito Lounge and Other Poems in 1982 by Random House. We also procured a weeks worth of provisions, including food, water, batteries and ammunition. In the middlehive, we procured a flat-bed vehicle by promising to return it in good condition, with only a little bit of coercion on my part. We traveled to the underhive, with me traveling separately so as to arouse minimal suspicion as to my connection to them. He had a contact with additional information on the black-robed figure, Theodocia, but who wouldn’t provide the information until we’d dispatched a figure named Rolando, who was down in the underhive. Rather than make the arduous journey to Ambulon, we chose to follow a closer lead that Arion had investigated. ![]() He had also learned that Laurent Strophes would likely be able to provide us cover stories as facilities inspectors should we choose to pursue our lead to Ambulon. He learned that the intruders were likely from a mercenary group known as Pressure Point, but we were unlikely to find out who had hired them or for what purpose. While we were recovering from surgery in the hospital, Arion recovered more information to plan our next move. I soon learned that Odessa and Intios had received similar accoutrements. I awakened in a hospital room, with my right arm replaced by a seemingly well-crafted mechanical substitute. While Odessa, Intios and I were mortally wounded, Arion dispatched the remaining intruders with his quick blade. My last recollection was seeing a grenade land in the room as I covered my eyes with my arm. I ran toward Trantor and grabbed the autopistol off his seemingly lifeless body, but never had time to use it. At some point in the melee, Odessa was struck down by a shot to the chest, and I ran out of shotgun shells. Trantor lay dying in the corner, as two intruders edged around the doorway, exchanging gunfire with Intios, Odessa and myself. The door crashed open, and Arion quickly ran into the hallway, weapon in hand, and the sound of the striking blade echoed in the room. Blessedly, the lights had returned in House Strophes just in time for us to make a stand. I was bleeding heavily from grenade shrapnel, but the will of the Emperor drove me forward. Taking a defensive position in the room of Inquisitor Karkalla’s group, I reloaded my shotgun. The 12-month survival of a campaign is nothing to sniff at – an atta’boy to all acolytes of the Emperor, past & current! From: Terlian Cascius Adeptus Arbites & Acolyte of the Holy Inquisition, Ordo Hereticus EMPEROR PRESERVE’S ONE- YEAR ANNIVERSARY! ![]()
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