Medea

03/30/17

A harbor town. Where the crusty young sailors kick the barnacles off their bellies
and dance with anyone who will have them.
Take one of the sailors and kick him around a bit to get things started, an ugly man
made uglier by too much time at sea, an angry man made angrier by not knowing what
made him angry.
Then let one of the locals think his girlfriend has more money than he does and
how can this be.
The rest has been imagined by everyone, but do it again, with more detail; the
particular curses, the color of her torn dress, the movement of a drop of blood flying
gracefully through the graceless air of the smoky bar, the smell of the alley when he
finally wakes up and the name he gives the one-eared cat he takes back with him onto the
boat.
He’s not responsible. Maybe nobody else is either. The girlfriend was made out of
fog and everything missing from a sailor’s dream. That’s how he got this way. The way
his teeth depart after he wakes up and can’t remember. That’s how lost he feels when his
shipmates are drawn to the cat, its hair wild and the hissing coming from everywhere.


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.