Tuesday, September 15, 2009

Bombs

Gave Shya two weeks. Seemed like a good idea.

***

There are cities and there are villages in foreign lands. Have you noticed? Have you looked it all up on maps of the world?

I have.

First, there are foreign lands, and that's one thing. That's one thing.

Then, next, there are cities and villages in these foreign lands. Cities AND villages! Not just one or the other. They have both. Both all over the place.

I mean, why, right? Isn't the first thing enough?

In these cities and these villages in foreign lands, they also have people.We have things like that here, right? They have them over there, too! They have them. People who live in cities and villages, and who have jobs and have telephone numbers and have nights where they all get together and play games of cards with each other.

They do those things. They don't even ask us. They just do them. One day at a time. And never does it ever stop or anything.

So I'm thinking it's time to go ahead and bomb them. And I'm not even just kidding about this like I was the time I told you that I thought it was maybe a good idea for us to have a third person come into the bedroom with us and maybe help you along with the making me pleased.

This time I mean it. I think we should find those foreign countries on one of the maps, and we should get in the car, and we should pack up two bombs, and we should travel to one of those foreign countries, and we should drive in to one of those countries, and we should find first a village, and we should bomb that village, and we should get back in the car, and we should drive then to a city, and we should plant a bomb in the big city's biggest building, and we should wait there and be there when it goes off.

That'll show them is what I think. That'll teach them to have what they have.

I'm not jealous of what they have. I want them to appreciate it. That's all I mean by this. I want more people to understand what they have. I think blowing up a little property is the best way to do that.

***

Dear Sir,

What are you on about?

From,
Sir

Dear Sir,

Thanks for writing. What do you mean?

From,
Sir

Dear Sir,

I mean with the bombing and all that? What are you on about?

From,
Sir

Dear Sir,

Nothing in particular. I'm just on about things. Sometimes I'm just on about nothing with something. Sometimes something is something. Sometimes I'm on about it.

From,
Sir

Dear Sir,

You realize, though, Sir, that you are on about something that is on the minds of others right now. Because of dates and things?

From,
Sir

Dear Sir,

I suppose this is true. But the thing I'm on about isn't actually that thing. I mean, it feels like that thing, but it sort of isn't. I'm on about what I'm on about, and it's maybe just a coincidence.

From,
Sir

Dear Sir,

Highly unlikely. Hard to believe. Impossible to believe. I mean, we are having this correspondence, after all.

From,
Sir

Dear Sir,

I see your point, Sir. You make a lot of sense. I am noticing, of late, a greater sense of attention to the awareness of what it is I am on about in you. And in you means in me. What do we think this could all mean?

From,
Sir

Dear Sir,

Perhaps you are having an episode of some sort. A bad episode. A difficult one.

From,
Sir

Dear Sir,

Save me from myself.

From,
Sir

Dear Sir,

No.

From,
Sir

***

John Madera reviewed my book.

2 comments:

panoptican said...

Dear Sir,

Very gentlemanly of you to give Shya two weeks. And ready Shya everyday for two weeks I did, awaiting your inevitable story about bombs.

From,
Sir

DJ Berndt said...

This is lovely.