On the plane, waiting out an endless pre-flight delay, I pick out the following phrase from the conversation going on behind me:
In the trunk of your Mercedes
I want to turn around and say,
Hey, um, did you know that what you just said was in perfect trochaic tetrameter? You know, like Poe--Once upon a midnight dreary? While I pondered weak and weary? In the trunk of yr Mercedes? Yeah. So um, do you like trochees too? Because they are so totally the most punk rock of all metrical feet. BUM-bum BUM-bum. It's almost the "Marquee Moon" riff, don't you think? Okay, not exactly, that's more evenly stressed, but "Psycho Killer," maybe? "Beat on the Brat?" 'Cause like, the trochee is also the underdog foot. Everybody loves iambs. Iambs steal the attention since they're Shakespeare and all, and I realize it's hard to ignore that 'The quality of mercy is not strained' stuff, but really, what is iambic pentameter? A feather floating to the ground--a horse galloping at best. Which is fine and all, you know, that's great, but trochees are like hammers striking anvils. You want urgency? You want speed and heat and insistence and propulsion? The trochee's yr foot. Do you know what I mean?