Illustration by Thomas McDonough
A Letter
Steve and Yuko,
I have a cheap digital watch with a protruding metal peg. If something
pushes this peg, the time changes. The other day, in Prospect Park,
I was carrying this watch in my pocket as I took my daily walk. I
left at 1:21. When I looked at the time, after a few minutes, it read
“9:3P”. (A letter had not appeared in the display before.)
I suppose that is pronounced “nine-thirty-pee.”
Today I have become interested in a chair invented in 5th century
BC Greece, the klismos. Its back is composed of intertwined thongs,
and it looks a lot like a chair in a dentist’s waiting room.
Tonight I walked as the sun had just set. The sky was deep blue, with
black clouds upon it. The shape of the clouds, for some reason, reminded
me of heartbeats.
This morning I saw three small turds in a row, on the stovetop. I
have never seen that before. Do I have a new linear mouse?
Love, Sparrow
Vet Theory
The Belgian veterinarian Frans Herpt studied the Catholic scriptures
for three years and concluded: “The qualities considered saintly
in people—devotion, patience, selflessness—are quite common
in dogs.”
Etymology Report
The trampoline was actually invented by tramps. Hobos would find industrial
rubber, pin it between branches, and bounce upon it—often after
a swig or two of rotgut whiskey. One such tramp, Elbert Ruley, eventually
settled down and became an inventor. He called his first creation
the “trampoline”, in honor of his itinerant friends.
Mouse Journal
12/16
Walking into the kitchen, I notice the garbage bag rustling. The garbage
bag can’t be rustling, I think, vaguely.
As I walk closer to the bag (a paper bag hanging from a knob) a large
rodent leaps out and runs across the sink. Behind the stove it disappears.
And what did the mouse want in the garbage bag? All the bag held was
the empty box of the new Tabasco sauce I bought, and several crumbs
of knish.
Over many months we’ve learned what the mouse will eat at night.
It will always eat a ripe banana, or a ripe pear. It never eats an
apple.
This morning I noticed we leave the ginger and garlic out every night—the
mouse never consumes them. But it does eat my daughter’s gum
eraser.
We must begin to put the eraser in the refrigerator.
Dream (12/19)
I meet a woman who is an “activist against activists.” In
her office, she shows me a thick file of clippings: “These recount
the errors of activists.”
Roam No More
Roam no more
Roam no more
I will build you a chair
to sit in and read
Come live with me
and roam no more
Roam no more
Roam no more
I will build you a table
and knit you a rug
I will carve you a bathtub
out of stone
Roam no more
Roam no more
I will bake you an apricot pie
to eat
Come live with me
and roam no more
A Solution to Homelessness
Recently I solved the homeless problem, with this plan:
Simply throw people out of their homes! Count the number of homeless
people, then count an equal number of houses, and evict the inhabitants.
Of course, each homeless person may not want her own home. Two or
four may choose to live together—and some may need no house at
all. That’s why I recommend that the evicted families stand outside
their home for a while, in case they may return.
“How will you decide whom to evict?” I hear you ask.
“The only fair way—by lottery,” I reply.
“But this will not really solve the problem of homelessness,”
I hear you further object.
“This depends upon one’s definition,” I shrewdly respond.
“By ‘homelessness’, I mean ‘those permanently
without homes.’ This program removes homelessness—because,
three months later, another 436,281 people (to choose a possible number)
will be thrust from their houses, and the new out-of-home families
will be re-housed.”
Wouldn’t it be wonderful if all the people chosen in the first
lottery were in the upper middle class, and could simply contract
to build new houses? Then everyone in America would have a home. But
of course, that would not be fair. Only a lottery is fair.
Another possibility is that the President of the United States will
be evicted from the White House, and three homeless women will live
in the Green Room. Or Bill Gates could be ejected from his $109.5
million dollar estate. Ha, ha!
Voice Camera
There is no sonic equivalent to a camera.
When we wish to take pictures, we may use a camera—a “still”
camera—or a video (or film) camera. The first device freezes
a particular image forever; the other records a series of actions.
But when we choose to transcribe a voice or other sound, we have only
a tape recorder, which records sounds over time. There is no way to
take a “voice photograph”—to record one discrete moment
of a voice.
A “voice camera” might create a “snapshot” of
the sound “ki” in “kitchen”, or the “ss”
in “bassoon.” Later, one could listen to this snapshot the
way one regards a photograph—as a memento, or aesthetic image.
Contest Bulletin
The Maritime Zoo Contest (in which contestants were required to use
a month as a verb) drew many eager calendar-poets.
Alan R. Elliot submitted:
Baa, baa black sheep. January wool?
Carbon Tip entered:
“Why July?” (To which the answer might be: “No, it
was the honest truth!”)
And Susan Banki proceeded with:
The ants march one by one.
Meanwhile, at the Paleolithic Hairnet Contest (in which
I asked for hate mail) Manson of Beacon, NY wrote:
“Quarter To Three is an insurmountable item of small value.”
And someone named The Squirrel wrote a fine, denunciatory series of
linked haiku, but declined to have them published.
Finally, for the Bald Olive Contest (asking for homonyms)
David T. Budd entered:
any honor
a knee on, or
a neon ore
What fecund contestants!
