CRYING, COUNTING, LOOKING, BURNING, CALLING, BURNING
BY NATHAN IHARA
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Oh God no. The milk. Oh please please God not the milk. Not spilt, oh. It's just not, just not, just not -- God. Not fair, not right. Why? All over the f-f-f-floor. My beautiful milk. Oh oh oh. Spilt. Spilt. Spilt. Ruined. Empty. All of over the place. I had such, such plans. The things I was going to do with it: the drinking of it, the pouring, cereal, coffee, teas, oh, the delicious cold creamy, creamy... Bwwwaaaaaaa! BWWWWWAAAAAAA!!! Oh God. God? Why have you foresaken --bwaaaaaaaa!-- me? Gnuuuuuurrrr! Bwwwwaaaaaaaa! Waaaaaaaaaaaah! Oh milk. Oh milk milk milk milk milk. MILK! Precious, pure. Spilt on the ground like, like misery. Lost. Lost. Spilt. Spoiled. Waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah! One, two, three, four, five... wait: I'll start over. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, yes, eight. Eight! Eight chickens. Jesus Christ. Marvelous. Splendid. Eight eggs, eight chickens. That's math. That's nature. That's beautiful. Imagine it. Splendid! Can you believe my luck? Eight. Not seven. Not six. But eight! Eight gorgeous chickens: fluffy, healthy, plump little birds. Chicks first, eight chicks, but soon, so much sooner than you would think, eight fat firm lovely and luscious chickens. Oh joyousness. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight. One, two, three, four, five, six, no doubt about it, seven, and eight. Ha! Chickens! How lucky! Has there ever been anyone as lucky and happy as I? Sure, sure I'm grateful. Hey! Did I not say I was grateful? But come on! You think I'm not going to look this thing in the mouth? It's very generous of you, and, yes, I could definitely use it, but, hey, of course I'm going to examine the quality, the quality of its teeth. Gift, yes. Horse, yes. Sure. Yes. Sorry, but yes, I'm looking this sucker in the mouth. Yes it's bright, surprisingly bright really, and just somewhat warm. It's a good thing, that's for sure. But why stop here? Why just settle for one end, upright, one wick, the boring way? Not me. I innovate. I improve. It's just simplicity itself, if you put your mind to it. Twice as bright! Twice as warm. All together a better way to keep out the dark. It's innovative. It's a whole new way to use wax. Double your fun. OK. Here I go. There: isn't that splendid? Isn't it wonderful and clever? Burning at both ends: smashing. There's no end to the goodness. Kettle, you're black. Black as soot. As pitch. Dirty as a sinner. I'm just going to slowly add bits of tinder. You
know the drill: heat plus fuel plus oxygen. I'll start with this tissue.
Highly flammable stuff. Then twigs. Dry sticks. Work up to larger materials.
Before you know it I'm going to have this mother going like crazy. I'll
get this whole damn bridge in flames, burning up behind me. You watch.
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B R A V E S O U L S R E C E I V E
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Seven
Unrelated, Yet Related Haiku
[From "The Area For Textual Encounter"]
By Die Later Mr. Bronco