We couldn’t get to Uncle Johnny’s because a boulder was in the way, so detoured through a farmyard where the dogs were as cute as any I’d seen—big woolly heads like cartoon sheep. When I couldn’t drive the car I pushed it in front of me like a baby stroller. Easy.
Tangents turn vinegar,
Said the smiling singer.
Try to tie a string across a pond.
Crouched over in the camping tent, teenage Pete was awkwardly pulling on his swimsuit when the backyard was invaded by a hostile band of bearded medieval warriors. Thinking quickly, he defused the situation by launching into a spirited rendition of the Beatles’ “Fixing A Hole.” The brutes were dumbstruck and soon joined in the song.
Swim a black paint pool.
Emerge white as sky.
Monitor the reservoir of ink.
I ate the strychnine apple while waiting for the next attack. Set up all my dolls on a corner of my desk. Studied the spines of the books on the shelf and decided it was time.
Embarrassed egg on his face,
Arms full of sweaters and a hanging plant,
He pulled pieces of a ring from his skin.
After our host, an aging glamrocker, had snaked an electrical cord around the hall, he led an edit meeting. Cousin Siri pitched a return to the tainted meat in the tropical war zone—green flesh in the frying pan.
Fungi grew from the small of his back,
Morel mushrooms (Morchella) and
Alder Bracket (Inonotus radiatus).
I twirled my special curve with the nasty inside-out break. I thought it was a kingfisher at its work, but as our boat drew closer the bird became a bald eagle rushing like a dolphin just beneath the surface.
Dark stillness of the river
Before rain. Drove a roadster up
The narrow winding stairs.
Aunt Kaye asked for a blanket and a broom and surprised us with her clowning camel impersonation. She fashioned a portrait of Goethe from a fried egg and warned that bugs would bite if we went barefoot on the old boat.
Everybody understood the urge to draw
A satisfying conclusion, yet
Who said you had to say good-by?
