About the Author

Where is the Thames. What are the times. River otter Glyder Fach Red Tide. Once Chernobyl told your fortune, bald dumb blind deaf, Heiko on his bike-o with the weird ash drifting down – not near, not far, but close enough to lose his hair by Christmas. He drew and drew forever after form undreaming content, content dreaming form. Still there was another part can’t find it now – Lisa Fiction is a fishmanal character appearing in some fucked-up prose, what stories are? Spells cast under the beetle’s ring, double, dare.

Today I Wrote Paradiso, Inferno, all the Song of Solomon, the first half of Fantasia and “Froggy Went A-Courtin.’” Plus “The Queen of the Birds Loves Tom Horne” and “Octavio lives in a mountain.” He was a childhood I met some day, so there. New goldfish at the fair! If you win one, it will die a whole day after you take it home – yes and you will bury it under a Medlar tree or in the strip of weeds between the housings like a “yard” but not. But what: a clump of dirt from which perhaps False-Flax. Compare:

The lower leaves and lower stem downy with star-shaped hairs.

Pods three-eighths of an inch, balloon-shaped or pear-shaped,
each containing ten seeds.

The groove between the radicle and seed leaves distinct, that between
the seed leaves less so.

Occurrence: All through Canada in waste places and along railways.
A noxious weed in the West.

Injury: On stubble, and in flax fields. In fields of fall grain.
Seeds frequently found in the seed of flax, clover and grass.

Remedy: Hand-pull, surface cultivation in fall and spring.
Summer-fallow early.

Book! Say Remedy, Injury, Occurrence. Say Canada O candada come over here, give up your coats, your weeds with other Latin names, your color plates. A throw. Summer-swamp still sticking in the air, I write not here. But here, between the words, you might, take shape – balloon star pear a die contains. Ten dots. Beware.