Perhaps There Will Be Something Left
I want to explain why I missed the brunch on Tuesday. My green pants of sin were
drying on the clothesline and Cuddles was not at the shoe house. Laisy Daisy and Weed
were flying your very best underwear kite, the one that flew like a bubbling guppy, and it
got caught in a tree while Gramps was carving another lawn flamingo. I took it away
from him, but the dog found it. I wanted to take it surfing.
Nothing doing. That’s what Gramps said and you know what? He was right. When
he finished it, that flamingo had curves like Susie Detweiler. So I guess I missed the
brunch for no good reason and I’m a little steamed, but most sinners never even notice.
Betty the Doll was here for dinner on Sunday. She wore an old bonnet. She called
it a beret, but I knew it was a bonnet. She wanted to show me her picture holes. She said
they were brilliant wounds and someday they would make her famous. I don’t think so,
but maybe I should study it.
What kind of person do you think a scientist needs to be? My teacher says we must
not get the idea that scientists will soon run out of problems to solve. My teacher says
things to get our attention, like an invention that solves one problem may create many
new problems. Doesn’t that mean more and more scientists will be needed until there
aren’t any normal people left? Klondike says I have an “elusive” mind. He’s still going to
Alaska, but not yet. Alaska must be more elusive than my mind is.
I dropped some things today. Sure enough, they all hit the ground at the same time.
My book says a scientist is just a human being like anyone else. I don’t think so.
But I don’t want you to be angry with me.
Maybe we could teach researchers to sing together.
Maybe you could save me some leftovers.
I’m sorry you’re sorry I couldn’t make it, but sing anyway, okay?
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.