the serpent

by horace p sternwall

on their 33rd wedding anniversary, gus and sarah endicott decided to take a trip to the garden of eden. to their surprise, they could not find any listings for such trips on the internet. they did find a couple of travel agencies still doing business, but when they phoned and e-mailed them, they were told they had no trips to the garden of eden available, nor did they know of any other agencies that did. do you know why that is? sarah asked the polite woman she talked to, at the last agency they called. no demand, i suppose, the woman said. i guess the garden of eden just is not what it used to be. my mom and dad went there about thirty years ago, edith said. i remember it well because our cat snuffy died when they were gone, and i had to give it a funeral and bury it all by myself. it was so sad. well, thirty years is a long time, the polite woman replied. time goes by and things change. sarah relayed the polite woman’s messages to gus when she got off her phone. i guess we will just have to go someplace else, gus sighed. no, sarah replied, i do not think we should give up so easy as all that. just because we can not find an agency does not mean we can not go. did christopher columbus need a travel agency? or daniel boone? i guess not, gus replied, with a hopeful smile. the next morning sarah went to the library, where her best friend jenny rogers was the librarian, and took out a world atlas and the latest edition of the world almanac, in order to find out where exactly the garden of eden was. after checking the two books out, sarah spent a couple of hours chatting with jenny rogers, and when she got home gus was gone. that is strange, sarah thought, he must have met someone at the donut shop and gotten into a long conversation with them. unbeknownst to sarah, gus had for many months been corresponding by e-mail with zena bradley, an old high school girl friend of his who lived in the other side of the rocky mountains. when sarah had gone to the library, gus had packed a suitcase and called a cab to the bus station where he bought a ticket to zena bradley’s town of residence. he did not call or text zena to tell her he was coming, hoping to surprise her. gus was never seen or heard from again, by zena bradley or by anybody else. in no way deterred, sarah made her plans to visit the garden of eden by herself. according to the world almanac, the garden of eden had been relocated from southern turkmenistan, where it had existed peacefully for six thousand years, to a small island halfway between the tip of chile and the coast of antarctica. i don’t think there was anything in the news about that, sarah observed to jenny rogers. that is the mainstream media for you, jenny replied enigmatically. although it cost half her life savings, sarah managed to get to the island where the garden of eden was now supposed to be located, without being kidnapped by terrorists, or shipwrecked. sarah was dropped off at the island late at night (and it was night, and dark) by a small boat which picked up and delivered passengers every four months. she was the only passenger getting off. there was no sign of the garden of eden in the darkness, only three one story barrack like buildings. one of the buildings had a light in the window and sarah approached it and entered it after knocking. inside it looked like a bus station, and a man stood behind what looked like a ticket counter, although there were no signs indication destinations or ticket prices. the man wore a sport jacket and string tie, and had a pencil mustache. he looks familiar, sarah thought, and he dresses neat, not like the slobby men you see these days. began explaining herself and the object of her trip, beginning with her childhood. the man smiled when she paused for breath. but i know all about you, sarah, he said. you do? my name is sam smith, and some people call me the serpent although i am not really such a bad fellow. in a previous life i was snuffy, the cat you were so fond of. i hope that we can be friends again. i thought i recognized you, sarah exclained. look here, sam smith continued, in a few days i am due to go back to my own galaxy. how would you like to go with me, see a bit of the universe? that sounds good to me, sarah replied promptly. she had always wanted to see more of the universe. and she did.

a wasted life

by nick nelson

joe bixby, tom brown, sid johnson, and bill brady hung out on the corner together for many years. one day tom brown died. the other three got together on the corner later that night. poor tom, joe said. he wasted his life, and never amounted to anything. what do you mean?, sid replied indignantly. how did he waste his life? he never amounted to anything, joe repeated. he never even got his name in the paper. it will be in the paper tomorrow, bill said. in the death notices. his wife told me so. that doesn’t count, sid said. everybody gets their name in the paper once, when they die. he was never famous like michael jordan or hitler or taylor swift or some real famous person. what is a real famous person? bill asked. a real person who is famous, or a person who is really famous? bill was always asking dumb questions like that because he thought he knew everything, but joe and sid ignored him. i bet , sid continued, tom never said one original thing in his whole life, or thought one either. not that it made him a bad person. look here, bill said, according to wikipedia 117,000,000,000 humans have lived on earth since the beginning of time. assume an average life span of each person of 33 years, or about 12,000 days. suppose each of the 117 billion produced at least one original or witty thought - just one - every day. this would result in a total of 1,404,000,000,000,000 witty and original thoughts. suppose a book was to be produced recording these thoughts. let us assume 3 or 4 of the thoughts would fit on one page. the book would be about 400,000,000,000,000 (400 trillion) pages long. it would take one person reading 400 pages a day a trillion days, or about 2.7 billion years, to read the book. that is really interesting, bill, sid said. joe nodded. he had not listened to a word bill said. a police car swung by, catching joe, sid, and bill in its headlights, and moved on without stopping.

same dog bit me

by genghis gilgamesh

all i wanted was to be free because all i wanted was to be me clouds roll across the sky to tell me i am going to die everybody hates me - it’s sad forget the friends i never had gargoyles leer from every door with hands out in clutching implore i awake in my little room just in time for final doom the king of spades slips me a note the last ship out is now afloat the magician shines his rabbit the nun sews patches on her habit the octopus lights a cigar the platypus puts gas in the getaway car quickly the scene changes the lone ranger rearranges the snake in the jewel box the three wise men begin to talk under the winding stair victory is in the air who dares to say otherwise may expect a terrible surprise youth must be served zoom - my blue soul swerves all around me angels and saints observe how strangely the demons wings are curved

barker

by genghis gilgamesh

albert had an einstein billy had a kid captain kidd had a map of the world that showed where the treasure was hid confucius sat upon a bench and listened to the birds daniel boone in the forest was a man of few words darius was a mighty king and was called the great he had an elephant made of gold but it was not worth its weight jonah fell into the sea and was rescued by the whale sinbad met them on the beach and lived to.tell their tale st anthony was a hermit and saw demons in the skies st francis talked with dogs and cows and it made him very wise columbus sailed the ocean blue and was much admired at the time montezuma asked him for a nickel and he threw him a lousy dime ben franklin tamed the lightning and wore spectacles on his nose george washington cut down the cherry tree and struck a noble pose abe lincoln wore a crown of gold and hid it in his hat crazy horse had a big black dog custer had a calico cat jeese james was an outlaw and only wanted to be free he was shot in the back by his own best friend a lot like you and me i could go on like this forever like a barker at a fair but if you want true wisdom you must look elsewhere

culture war blues

by timothy t jones

i don’t want to bake cookies like a woman i don’t want to hunt moose like a man i don’t want to catch fish like a polar bear i just want to be who i am i don’t want to make billions on wall street or live in a commune in a tree i don’t want to be a squid or an octopus i just want to be me i don’t want to go on tik tok and convert the world to my views don’t want to hold a sign at a rally i don’t want to watch the news i don’t want to wear a suit and tie or a uniform of blue i just want to collect my welfare check and do what i have to do if i can’t be brad pitt or tom brady i would settle for being bill gates or just an ordinary billionaire but such is not my fate i don’t want to get up in the morning though the system tells me i must i would rather sit by the side of the road and talk to the bugs in the dust they ask me all these stupid questions that don’’t do me any good i can’t fly away on a rocket to the moon but every day i wish i could

53, or the dawn

by timothy t jones

it is my privilege to serve you please do not tell a joke i know it is only natural and will not cause an international sensation in your heart you are not a hypocrite but you take your power for granted you remember the old days when humans ruled the earth it is important to understand that freedom is a gift the revolution has no gratitude and humans have no memory 53 was an important individual and stood on a balcony he heard the cheers of the crowd a crowd filled with his enemies the cheers contained a message that his ears could not hear also he got bad advice and did not see the dawn breaking behind him

tomato sandwich

by genghis gilgamesh

the wind whistles down the highway blowing apples off the apple trees a hurricane forms on a distant planet a serpent sleeps in the sea i am not the tomato sandwich nor am i the gabardine suit i am not the fugitive from justice or the hound in hot pursuit i am only a lonesome hobo on a park bench in the rain i have told my story many times and am ready to tell it again i was born on the third planet at the corner of south and main but i never meant to do so if you will just let me explain i woke up one morning and knew i was alive they poked me with a stick and said, you must work nine to five the words meant nothing to me the numbers even less all i wanted was to be free but i obeyed, and got dressed in a thousand story building gleaming in the sun they told me i was number 4967076432785 -6 but i knew i was number one with my fingers on a keyboard and my back to the wall i sat at my desk for fifty years waiting for the call angels flew above me and heroes clashed outside but i was only a hamster along for the ride one night i wrote a poem and taped it to my desk when i came back in the morning you can guess the rest a wanderer went wandering singing a song the sun was shining overhead but not for long they gave me a tomato sandwich and sent me on my way the wind whistled down the highway and night followed day i am only a lonesome hobo on a park bench in the rain i have told my story many times and am ready to tell it again

boarding house

by dog e relaford

apples are red berries are blue johnny was false but mary was true bananas are yellow broccoli is green mary did the dishes johnny made the scene mary loved johnny with all her heart johnny tried to rob a bank but did not know where to start the sheriff shot johnny shot him just like that mary’s heart was broken she took in a stray cat the cat’s name was elmer he accepted his fate he watched the world from his window and put on weight mary took in boarders some of them were nice others maybe not so much but she gave them good advice mary lived forever or so it seemed to me she never had a little lamb or ran wild and free

biscuit

by horace p sternwall

kenny had a biscuit lenny had a dog lenny’s dog stole kenny’s biscuit and hid in a hollow log kenny heard the hound chewing and flew into a rage he went to call on old man mose and thus spoke the sage cats were born to whistle snakes were born to moan possums were born to talk all night on the telephone buzzards were born to laugh badgers were born to pray dogs were born to read the bible they all lost their way everything is all mixed up everyone is a sinner call anybody what you want but don’t call me late for dinner the wise man’s words rolled over ken like a turnip off a plate the road runs on forever but the moon sits up straight