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Showing posts from December, 2013

More from the half-used bookshelves of M. L. Hedengren

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Here are some more of the weird things I've found in my old notebooks. Ah, what a youth I was..! Go child-- my mother said to me-- go and and wash the poop from your shoes. Take paper towel and stick and hose and wash the poop from off your shoes. For Adam's sake was all man curses that pleasures might a price demand And for a day's wanterlust and romp, to spray one's treads out will suffice. For simple pleasures, and carelessness, a simple recompense is made. So go and use the outside hose and wash the poop from your shoes. *** My lad, I'm glad you've some to stay And watch the house while I'm away Before I go, just let me say Don't poke the monster. If you're feeling bored and dull Play hide and seek with the mad troll or eat moat frogs until you're full But don't poke the monster. And if it's really dreadful weather Tie medusa's heads together and tickle her with griffen feather But don't poke

From an Unmarked Notebook on My Shelf

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 Mr. Gimley was 64 years old, his mother peacefully passed away. Mr. Gimley mad ethe funeral arraignments, spoke at the eulogy and grieved the appropraite length of time. Then he retired early from his high position at a successful insurance business, sold his house and his condo in Florida, and moved into the orphanage. "Excuse me," said mean Mr. Stiles, the director of the orphanage, "you don't belong here." "Excuse me," said Mr. Gimley, "I'm an orphan." So Mr. Gimley ate gruel for breakfast .... and lunch.... and dinner. He dressed in patched rags with torn hems. He scrubbed the floors with a toothbrush. He played stickball (but not as well as the other orphans) He learned long division under kind Miss Stu and cheap walletmaking under mean Mr. Stiles. When Christmas came, he savored every section of his orange, with was naturally his only present. "Gee, Miss Stu," he said. "being an orphan