Wednesday, May 18, 2016


The Facts Communicate with Themselves
(and can often be found in the Fiction section)

I thrive on sentences.  One might some-
times say that they are flying dangerously
off the side of the cliff.  One might say
alternate reality.  “Well that’s terribly
wrong,” says the comedian in a wetsuit.

“Allow me to diagnose this,” she says,
not even trying to disguise herself as a
real doctor.  Everyone gets it except me,
of course.  They’re all ROFL and then
she’s ROFL.  I’m just ROF until I learn

that my name has always been neither
Ralph nor Rolph.  “You have an excel-
lent understanding of today,” says the
thistle to the undergarment that is sooo
comedienne.  Today we all say “hooray!”

Yesterday we sat dumb in our chairs,
like, twisting our heads almost all the
way around.  Tomorrow will be so
passé.  But jokes to some folks (be
they—the folks, the jokes—ditzy or

deep), even though they might be
funny to everyone else, are so
cliché.  “I rest my case,” says
the Basket Case.  “The dog
ate my homework,” says

Plunger.  “I draw the line,”
says a boy named Sue.
People are just funny that way.