or living persons, as there was never an outlaw named Roald Dahl. Any
correlation to the writer Roald Dahl is coincidence as this is a poem.
Any Roald Dahl that may have once been living and may have scrutinized
technology and been cast away for it, is also coincidental. Roald Dahl
is a funny name; a name you have probably never heard nor will ever
hear coming from your television. You will neither find it in a book.
It would take great dedication to find it all. So we begin.
The fall schedule promises Big Love. Another season of Breaking Bad.
Little diddies about noninteractive mediums should never make one
proud. As noninteractive mediums can not defend themselves except with
billions of advertising dollars, bright colors, and representations of
form. Any form. All forms. Your books have failed you. The colors you
paint are dirty and drab. Your Kama Sutra is boring. Your Huck Finn is
a joke. Your Old Yeller follows the hind quarters of Marley and Me.
Brave writing and puffy chest pump draws from the endocrine well.
Feeling good? Feeling sleepy? Serotonin is wearing you as an eye mask.
Butt heads with your relatives, but draw no comparisons with thee. You
are a flea. Hippity hoppity merry maker on and on. I hope you drove
off a cliff. Reading a book. In short, your guard rail is unstable,
unsteady. You take the good, you take the bad, you take them both and
there you have something to work with. Your terminal head chattering
is no brave world for science and someday Quincy will suture your
gaping creativity hole. Imagination is a fascinating song sung by
Figment at Epcot. It is not for you to decipher. Unless you have some
money on it and want to let it ride. If it comes up again I might
shoot first. He shot first and missed. Fireplay ensued. A stray
ricocheted off a roulette wheel crown and caught poor Dahl in the eye.
After it healed, he could only watch pre-digital conversion
television. Reruns of Love Boat, to be exact. One night a posse of
rats was let loose in his apartment by the BBC news. He died of staph.
But, Quincy later revealed the missing rat findings to conclude that
this was, in fact, murder.
--
7.29.09
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