or as we called them up here,. postcard stories...
with a whiplash ending....
parallel universe, Hal, on this day...?
Doug
On 16-Apr-07, at 9:17 PM, Halvard Johnson wrote:
> Short Story Sonnet
>
> His license for fuzziness expired, Beckham turned to direct
> action. Vagaries of time and fashion overwhelmed his innate
> good humor. One admired the worst things in him, as though
> he were some neo-clinical monkey. Kidnapping adolescents
> became his “thing,” turning ransom money over to favored
> causes: Zimbabwean rebels, and so on. Ten cases of eggnog
> abandoned by a food bank provided some sort of sustenance.
> Somewhere along the Limpopo River, Mugabe’s thugs over-
>
> took him, ran off his “boys,” and began to make clear their
> demands. Late one night, a chest-high mud wall providing him
> some cover, he made good an escape into South Africa, where,
> meeting a wandering troupe of American evangelicals, he came
> at last to find Jesus. Back in the “world,” as Americans called it,
> he blissed out in Brooklyn, shoelaces tied and ready for Heaven.
>
>
> Hal
>
> Halvard Johnson
> ================
> [log in to unmask]
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> http://home.earthlink.net/~halvard
> http://entropyandme.blogspot.com
> http://imageswithoutwords.blogspot.com
> http://www.hamiltonstone.org
>
>
Douglas Barbour
11655 - 72 Avenue NW
Edmonton Ab T6G 0B9
(780) 436 3320
http://www.ualberta.ca/~dbarbour/
Latest book: Continuations (with Sheila E Murphy)
http://www.uap.ualberta.ca/UAP.asp?LID=41&bookID=664
lipsynching awe all the way to the grave of the unknown onus:
memory stutter; one smidgen, one scantling of thank.
Dennis Lee
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