ROBERT PENN WARREN RESIGNS!

Rosanna Warren, poet and daughter of Robert Penn Warren, made a brief  statement to the press this morning

“Good morning.  After long reflecton, and with a heavy heart… my father is sick of the politics (wipes tear) and he told me to tell you, he’s finished…Hirschman can have his March Madness win…my dad just wants…the poetry…the poetry…to shine…like the moonlight in his poem….”

This was just moments ago, in Boston, Rosanna Warren announcing that Robert Penn Warren and his poem, “Night Walking” are withdrawing from the Scarriet APR March Madness Tournament after a conflict of interest came to light on Monday of this week.

Scarriet March Madness officials quickly declared “The Painting” by Jack Hirschman will move on to the next round of play.

The irony was not lost on March Madness fans:  Robert Penn Warren is a Quietist, and yet “quiet” led to “riot” as the protest by defenders of Jack Hirschman changed the course of March Madness history.

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3 Comments

  1. Noochness said,

    March 10, 2011 at 6:01 pm

    It’s sure-fire every year
    That March Madness produces a scandal—
    I only hope, for the sake of the game,
    It’s not more than the av’rage fan can handle.

    • thomasbrady said,

      March 11, 2011 at 3:02 pm

      A Scarriet March Madness scandal again?
      I hope the fans don’t fill out their brackets in pen.

  2. Poem Support said,

    March 27, 2011 at 10:59 am

    W.C. Fields

    By Jove, my glowworm dove my chickadee Death’s
    Caught up with me at last with the last billing,
    And so many elegant days are still unsipped.
    ‘Tis a fraud, I say, ’tis a fraud; ’tis fraught
    With imminent danger, the coming of this fellow
    In the bright nightgown.

    Drat it, goodbye stuffed fowl of a life foreshortened,
    Goodbye rim of the glass of pure water forlorn,
    Goodbye blond pulchritude of farflung travels,
    Sunflowers I shall not sniff, balls not juggle,
    Goodbye. In a moment rather I shall endeavor
    To climb the wagon whose steeds will wend
    Bumpily along the road’s parched tongue
    To the provinces.

    But, Jehosaphat, my good man, has the chef
    By some mischance omitted the paprika?

    Jack Hirschman


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