augury doggerel

Sunday, May 19, 2002


I am not allowed to go to the zoo, supposedly for my own good, but I think they just want to keep me from coughing and sneezing on the kid and the elephants all day, so instead her grandparents are taking her.

I can't focus. I'm reading little bits of things. A book I found in the back of a dusty used book store, Social Life in the Insect World (Jean-Henri Fabre), is fine for browsing when things are green. Moby-Dick has surfaced on the book pile at home and I have followed Ishmael and Queequeg about land lately, but I'm not sure I want to set sail with them again. I'm reading short novels � The Loved One, The Ballad of the Sad Cafe � and have read too much by and about (green face powder?) Eliot lately. I need a few straight shots of Carver but I've loaned it to someone who reads slowly. Now what?

I think I'll write a story for children about a girl who goes to the zoo and makes friends with a monkey. The monkey will introduce her to the other animals, and she'll hide in their cages and act like them when her parents come looking for her from cage to cage. In the lion cage, she'll be a lion, roaring, maybe with a mane to play to the transsexual crowd. In the penguin pool, she'll be a penguin. And so on. Animal fun for the innocent set. In the end you'll see her monkey friend wearing her clothes, hat pulled low but tail sticking out, going home with her parents while she stays at the zoo to be one (and all) of the animals.


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