​Craig Kurtz has vexed aesthetic circles since the 1981 release of The Philosophic Collage. Recent work appears in Dalhousie Review, The Madras Mag Anthology of Contemporary Writing, Sentinel Literary Quarterly, Sheepshead Review, and Tower Poetry; many others would just as soon string him up. He resides at Twin Oaks Intentional Community.

                         The Levellers’ Song

We are the Levellers
and we have all the answers;
we’re going to liberate people
by making them all miserable;
we’re going to ban all sport and drink
and tell you what to read and think;
all city life is decadent
so we’ll make it non-existent;
we disapprove of theaters,
the beau monde and entrepreneurs;
the mere sight of the town’s smart set
gets us lusting for a gibbet;
we plan to plan human affairs 
and kick all dissent down the stairs.

We are the Levellers
and we’ll cure mankind’s errors; 
we’ll have nothing but farming toil
and eat raw food drenched in top soil;
because we’ll ban snuff and small beers
we’ll have good health to work more years;
we found the cure for poverty
is making you as poor as we;
we’ll have a state of martial law 
to quash all things we call bourgeois;
we all agree with our leader
says me, his top bottom feeder;
and never once will we complain 
because the ‘we’ is inhumane.


                    Honor Among Thieves

A DROLL FROM THE ALCHEMIST

DOLL:
We’re in this all together
‘tho we can’t stand one another;
the pelf is equal, it’s three cuts,
so what we hate each other’s guts;
our reputation’s on the line,
so unionize, or else be swine;
who cares what some novice believes,
team effort makes us better thieves.

FACE:
Cooperation’s our by-word,
we keeps our flimflams in accord;
fraternity preserves the peace
as we assess fresh gulls to fleece;
we run our gambits by the books
and that’s why we’re such classy crooks;
it’s true we don’t much get along,
but our cartel’s three times as strong.

SUBTLE:
We’re scrupulous with our ethics,
we’re principled in turning tricks;
we countenance by-laws and rules
for quality-controlling fools;
we certify gyps in escrow
with the better business bureau;
it’s all for one and one for us
with cheats three times as infamous.

DOLL:
We’re not here for a social call,
I’d just as soon poison you all;
but I respect contract and clause,
even skullduggery has laws;
we’ve all got swindles up our sleeves,
yet abide honor among thieves;
although we make each other retch,
tripartite better conies catch.

Craig Kurtz has vexed aesthetic circles since the 1981 release of The Philosophic Collage. Recent work appears in Dalhousie Review, The Madras Mag Anthology of Contemporary Writing, Sentinel Literary Quarterly, Sheepshead Review, and Tower Poetry;  many others would just as soon string him up. He resides at Twin Oaks Intentional Community.

The Science of Insult by Craig Kurtz

RECRUITMENT FOR THE SCHOOL OF SCOWERING

HEADMASTER:

​Forsooth, the science of insult is mathematical,
There’s protocols and formulas: it’s intellectual;
sure, in the country, some bumpkin can merely slap a face,
but in refinéd London, quarrels’ rules fill a bookcase;
there’s etiquette and precedent and how to do it well,
there’s statutes and concordats in the art of raising hell;
good man, your coming in’s indeed an act fortuitous,
the Captain here is certified a quarreling genius.

CAPTAIN:
I’ll tutor you on the insult disguised as compliment,
I’ll teach you querulous accosts both deft and elegant;
I’ll demonstrate the churlish dehort and the reproof curt
and if these will not prevail ye, there’s kicking shins overt;
the counter-check’s effective, the suave slander’s de rigueur,
the quip intense is trendy, the snide jeer is debonair;
all these prim conventions can be taught to you until
you are advanced to flatter glitterati with ill will.

​PUPIL:

I would speak according to the phrase triumphant, if you please,1
enucleating the kernel of my scabbard with ease;2
I’d like to roar out challenges to all my well-bred foes
but do so with assurance that no one will slit my nose.

HEADMASTER:

Forsooth, the science of insult requires scholarship --
how to salute haunches, when to box ears without slip;
there’s tropes and figures to map out how you should taunt and goad,
and, according to Fastidious Brisk, dueling in the mode;3
now, in the countryside, breaking windows after dark
may be the latest rage but we’ll expect more of you, spark;
we’ve got a certain tenor here, we’ve got a subtle touch,
and being Furious Inland is going to be too much.4

CAPTAIN:

I’ll tutor you on feizing servants and nose-tweaking gents
and why it’s a faux pas to ever mix these variants;
your thump, your wherret, and your doust, essential to ache joints,
tugs on the hair, bobs o’ the lips, I know the finer points; 5
I’ll demonstrate the niceties of truncheons and knife stabs,
but, more importantly, I’ll show you how to dodge bar tabs;
when I am done, the people you’ll love best are enemies,
since friends or family won’t fight you, who needs these base sissies?

PUPIL:

​I would insult courtiers and justle cavaliers --
anyone can brawl with peasants, I’ll hassle compeers;
but, maybe prior to my transformation to gallant,
you might also provide me with some weapon unguent.6

​1. Fletcher and Massinger, The Little French Lawyer, Act II, sc. I.
2. Middleton and Rowley, A Fair Quarrel, Act IV, sc. I.
3. Ridiculous anecdote about a challenge in which two antagonists succeeded in only injuring their foppish attire, from Jonson’s Every Man Out of his Humor.
4. Buffoonish country ruffian in William Davenant’s News From Plymouth.
5. Middleton’s A Nice Valor, Act III, sc. III.
6. Magical salve which, placed upon a weapon, prevents injury to its victim; mentioned in Henry Glapthorne’s The Hollander.