Doe,
Bumper sticker in Woodstock: ANOTHER GOLDBERG.
My belly has a sensation as if I’ve been gnawing wood.
Walking by the teenagers hanging at the gas station,
there is a strong smell of skunk.
Teenage Girl 1: I smell a skunk!
Teenage Girl 2: Angela, close your legs!
Dogs eat cat poop, but won’t eat dog poop.
My friend Jack just told me this.
The offices of The New Yorker resemble a large library,
I learned in my dream last night.
Divinity again,
Sparrow
Poem No. 61
tombix
Palindrome Man Returns
Palindrome Man is a new superhero who solves all problems with a palindrome (which, as you may recall, is a sentence, word, or electronics catalog that reads the same backward and forward).
Palindrome Man’s friend Emily invited him over for guacamole. “Something is wrong with it,” she said, as she stirred. “It tastes all right, but some ingredient is lacking.”
Palindrome Man dipped his finger into the green concoction, and tasted. “Emily, lime!” he announced.
Heard In A Dream
“I was married to Alfred Hitchcock zero times.”
Bible Removal: A Play
A woman is dusting her living room when she hears a knock at the door. She opens it to find three men in business suits. One speaks.
Expert: We’re here to remove your Bible.
Woman: You are? Why?
Expert: [Examining portable electronic message screen.] There seems to be some problems with it. May we examine the Bible?
The woman goes inside and retrieves her Bible. The assistant takes it from her and searches for a particular passage.
Then he nods.
Assistant: Yes, sir.
Expert: Just as I thought.
Woman: What is it?
Expert: In First Kings 8:27 you have, “But will God indeed dwell on the earth? Behold, the heaven and heaven of heavens cannot contain thee; how much less this house that I have builded?”
It should read: “But will God indeed visit the earth?”
That’s a huge difference, between “dwell on” and “visit”.
Woman: I see.
Expert: Wait four days, then you may buy another Bible.
Thank you.
[The three men walk away, with her Bible.]
Woman: You’re welcome.
Personal Ad
ROMANTIC millionaire seeks impoverished, overweight woman as a wife. Must be desperate, self-hating. Write to:
A Friend, Box 321, Turtle Bay Station, NYC 10021.
Tanktop
“I’m wearing a tanktop,”
Dick Cheney said,
but I was surprised
he meant the
actual top of a tank,
including a 620-mm
cannon.
Not A Contest Report
Scrupulous readers of Quarter To Three (this column) remember my requesting submissions to “a nonexistent contest.” Well, one arrived! David Budd entered the following non-contest (which he entitled “Silent gh” )—and won! His entry was:
Ought to be a straight, although
thoughtful, doughnut.
The Scorpion and the Turtle
A scorpion sat on a riverbank. He wished to cross the river, but he could not swim. A turtle swam by, and the Scorpion asked, “Friend Turtle, may I ride on your back across the river?”
“I fear you will sting me,” the Turtle replied.
“Nonsense,” said the Scorpion. “If I sting you, I will die too.”
The Turtle deliberated. Finally he said,
“All right, climb aboard.”
The Scorpion mounted the Turtle, who began to swim across the river. In the middle of the river, the Scorpion spun around several times. Then he sat down again.
The Turtle reached the far shore,
and the Scorpion hopped off.
“Why didn’t you sting me?” the Turtle asked.
“Each time this story is told, I sting you and we both drown,” said the Scorpion. “Each time I hope I will control the urge to sting you. This time, I succeeded.”
This article appears in January 2004.
