I'm going to try to run through canto XIII one time here, probably not all the way through. Theres a large section on the end that deals with two squanderers who are chased into scene by a pack of dogs. I'm thinking that they might be Hendrix and Joplin who both performed at Woodstock. Woodstock, get it? I laughed out loud I did.

I've been working on this post for about four days now. I can almost feel the shape of the end of the canto in my mind, but the words are still unclear. If I could dedicate a day to getting it right I think I could get it done. Wee, thats what the weekend is for.

Okay, this is a breakdown of the writing order of the canto. Lines 1-44 were completed on the 4th of Nov, lines 45-68 were written between the 5th and the 8th and all lines following (69-
) were written on the 9th. When I did a line count it was already fairly big (70+ lines) so the end became kind of condensed, or at least more so than the original idea I had for the end of this canto.

Anyway, I'm glad its done, it'll need to be redone, but at least I got through it in one (sic: cohesive) piece.

Project Dante

Canto XIII

So entered we this forest black 1
Its colors wrong, all out of whack
And Nessus left us find our way
In pathless wood in fear we strayed 4
And all my clothes on briar's torn
All shredded they on curving thorns
And up on top of branches gnarled
There nested Harpies, down they snarled 8
From high on top of highest boughs
I watched them with my twisted brow
Their eyes were cold, with wings so wide
They screamed as heard I round me sighs 12
With dreadful moan that echoes round
The sad lament of hopeless sound
So Virgil turns to say right there
In words that died in stagnant air 16
That we had entered second ring
That Phlegathon around did pin
That stretched on to the burning sands
(Where blasphemous by God were canned.) 20
'Behold this wood and listen now
For source of this infernal row
Just grab a branch and snap it off
To put to rest that train of thought 24
So grabbed I branch and off I tear
And heard I then a pain filled swear
'Oh Cruel-ty, without pity!
Oh why must you most cruel wound me? 28
What once was man but now are stumps
Just flotsam in this forest dumped
For those who have the souls of snakes
Now down in seventh circle staked.' 32
From out of wound there came a voice
Of those who made a bitter choice
'Forgive me please.' my master grieved
To set this wretch upon your tree 36
So tell this fool who once you were
Your name on earth he may repair.'
And so in wood of suicide
I heard a tale that made me cry 40
Of servant who had served his lord
On shifting sands, by act of sword
Then came one day and I was framed
And took my life for sense of shame 44
And ever if you see my master
When you leave this foul disaster
Tell him then of all you know
My self slain soul in hell now sown.' 48
And told him not I seen his boss
A mile before the river cross
Where rested he up to his brows
In burning blood in fate most foul 52
'Now tell him how you can to be,'
My master speaks to moaning tree,
'In second round of seventh maw
And what your dying vision saw.' 56
'I saw a light.' The tree replied
'When first I'd realized I'd died
And then a wind began to blow
That pulled me in on current slow 60
Until it like Katrina blasts
That sucked me down and then was cast
By chance wherever happened fell
On dreadful slopes of seventh hell 64
And when the final day last comes
We'll suffer still with bodies hung
That once we wore, but wear no more
Instead upon our limbs we'll store 68
And hang they then like rotten fruit
Reminder of a dreadful truth
That One should never Oneself kill
Or risk your soul in forest chill.' 72
Before the bush could say some more
We heard a growing distant roar
Then a sudden ground starts shaking
Heard I sounds of branches breaking 76
Sees I two I thought I knew
Come running in with asses blue
Followed by a hundred bitches 79
One of them in pain down pitches 80
And cries he then to fleeing mate
Before by pack of dogs was ate
'You weren't so fast at Nuremberg!'
And then was caught by chasing curs 84
And gobbled up and carried off 85
This sinner by the pack was scoffed
Half a hundred hounds all straying
All the while make dreadful baying 88
Run they off with little pieces
Splattered on their midnight fleeces 90
Heard I low then pain filled moaning
Crept I closer to the groaning
To where I saw a broken bush
That bleeding from it phrases gushed 94
'I am the ghost of Kurt Cobain
By mine own hand was I self slain
Now in this bleeding bush I'm bind
Oh well, whatever, nevermind.' 98
Then Virgil takes my hand and leads
Beyond the wood of tree that bleed
As tears now roll from wounded eye
In silence stumbled as I cried 102