Bruno is a mestizo and he is studying the weather. He has learned that it is more
interesting near the earth because the air here has more dust, smoke, moisture, passion,
sickness and confusion in it. This blanket is thicker than the one at the top of a mountain.
When you see a father on the road here, he is often carrying a big bundle. If the
bundle is too heavy, he ties it to the backs of his children. Such a father is held in place
by a long invisible strap the mother wears across her pelvic region.
These fathers wear embroidered anger and colorful shawls with small animals
woven into them and are proud of their fine thick necks. The mothers wear long leather
lace and as many silver eyeglass holders as they can afford. The children wear tall
Now if you really think about it, wouldn’t this make a fine pasture for someplace
Suppose Bruno is herding his llamas and a dangerous wolf appears with a bloody
baby in its mouth. The smart herdsman will know then that his children are as nutritious
as llamas. Will it help him to appreciate their value?
But if a mestizo is studying this kind of weather, he has two ways to approach his
problem. He can become a father and tie strings to his children to keep them from
wandering away like clouds until they have enough worries to alter their flavor, or he can
live alone and attach small slivers of ice to his thoughts to keep them from breeding.
Perhaps the great white clouds drifting high above the earth’s dirty blanket can be
made into the rain that makes mestizos grow by refreshing their tired blankets. Perhaps
this is done by the beautiful silky cloth that looks just like water and combs and combs
the air while it instigates an appearance of new life, whether it is a new life or it is not.
And perhaps this keeps the life inside the weather from stagnating. And this keeps
Bruno from placing his anger in unfortunate receptacles.
And if Bruno looks long enough, he can see this transformation appear in the last
great blanket of fear that is falling so slowly, so slowly, from the fathers and the mothers
of our great, confused land.
Fiction. Modern Abstract Fables.
(First edition, hardcover with dustjacket, 524 pages, $36.50 USD.)
Tunneling to the Moon: A Psychological Gardener’s Book of Days draws from fairy tales, a condescending of a 1938 Social Studies reader for 6th grade, an 1890 handbook on marital compatibility, numerous annoying educational advancement studies, the myths and legends of third-world countries and minority peoples, pulp fiction, a history of carnival side shows, folktales, frequent conversations with Crows, Owls and a wide variety of underground inhabitants, insects and the people who collect them, Joseph Cornell, Günter Eich, Russell Edson, the French Surrealist poets, the Quay Brothers, letterpress printing, and the author’s inability to channel his imagination linearly.
Begin from the beginning, catch up, read daily. Just refer to the Burrow Guide.