This morning Archie Dwiddlen was retrospecting about some of our old neighbors. It seems Alden and Issac were neighbors with a fence between them. There was a some confusion about who should maintain the fence. Alden was pretty sure it was Issac’s potion of the fence that Alden’s mongrel angus bull was sneaking through to … Continue reading A Neighbor, a Bull, Some Purebred Cows, and a Dilapidated Fence.
Blue sky :: May dawn blushes Maiden Breast Hills— noisome magpie :: aagk aagk aagk
Love has no moon sun or star to glim the dark of hopelessness that frays this atmosphere to void when you are far from the universe of my foolish wan. All light there is is only darkest mar, smudge blankness, along the vacant ways oblivioned love might pilgrim on to reverence in the galaxy where … Continue reading Love Has no Moon
There are those for whom The Cross is the phallus church of Christboyo rising triumphant—or rampant in the nunnery; but her cross is the empty neuter nutless prong and crosscock that weighs more than even sunlight and soil— that delineates a great black barrier between pale heaven and what gray we gain of earth— that … Continue reading Georgia O’Keefe’s “Vision of the Black Cross, New Mexico”
Though they came at me they would not stop. “You will not pay attention,” they said. “You have been attending one stopping at the hospital,” they taunted. “Have you no respect!?” They arrived and fled in one motion. I caught and held one a moment, but it was “Rushed” and would not give even its … Continue reading My, How the Words Rushed By!
Churn yearn spurn learn discern concern turn adjourn urn burn.
A quartet of quarters is a dollar. A dollar does not sing, although the coins ring when you drop them into a vagabond’s fiddle box. And if, under the long shadows and orange light of morning, that vagabond fiddle is joined by a rag-haired guitar, a withered old crone of a cello, and a quavery … Continue reading When a Quartet of Quarters Does Not Answer
“I don’t suppose anyone here has ever heard of the Olicanucian Flyinitus,” Robin said. The fireplace light flickered and danced in her small obsidian eyes. “No, Robie, no,” Merle said. “These folk don’t need to hear your misadventures in the Pleistocene.” He spoke quickly and his voice trembled, and we sensed in his warning more … Continue reading Bird Woman Speaks
One thing you never wanted to do around Marty Malpropiter, if you wanted any sense in a conversation, is let him think the conversation had intellectual underpinnings. As long as you kept to cows, horses, hay, irrigating, barb wire, bowling, football, road building, and such, things went fine. O, Marty may throw in an occasional … Continue reading Marty’s Proposition
“I never have liked suddenly.” This came out of the blue and vibrated in our ears as utter nonsense. Which pretty much describes the conversational style of Whit Morrisan. “Nope, never liked her, but I remember the day I knew I had had absolutely enough suddenlys to last me a lifetime,” Whit said. Whit was … Continue reading The End of Suddenly