Kurt Vonnegut Died
Tiger got to hunt,
Bird got to fly;
Man got to sit and wonder, "Why?why?why?"
Tiger got to sleep,
Bird got to land;
Man got to tell himself he understand.
I don't understand how you can read Vonnegut and not laugh and cry at the same time.
Shame on us; thanks be given for us.
Sleep well, friend, sleep well.
6 comments:
Kurt sure has been dead a long time!
Is he still dead??
Is his body cold yet?
Kurt is still dead. His spirit, though, I'm thinkin is still ponderin the weird essence of being. Just like I was last week.
I was out for a bike ride and I'm cruising and digging the grass and trees and farms and cows and horses and sayin hi to other people riding bikes and being cool with cars and liking the deep rumble of motorcycles as they blow by me.
I ride into this small town that will remain nameless to protect the small townies. I stop at this place to buy some stuff and they are like BRATS OUT BACK! so I'm like BRATS? And they are like FREE! so I'm out back yacking about the cows and farms with other lycra people stuffing pork meat encased in pork intestine into our holes. With mustard. Score! So I cram one down and think, why not and I crunch another tangy hot juicy pork thing down my hole.
Then, I'm off! Full of pork. Ready for more cows and horse manure smells. I even have me a tail wind as I leave this town and hit these hills. Short hills, that step up steeply. Like steps. One after another. I'm high on free meat so I punch it and get a good groove until about 3/4 of the way up when I feel not-so-good. I slow down and finish the last pitch to the top breathing hard and feeling funky.
I pull off the road into this parking lot which turns out to be the lot for a megachurch. And its sunday and they've been harvesting souls and the harvesting is over and the harvested souls are all meandering out to their jesus mobiles.
And I puke two free greasy pork meat brats with mustard onto their lot. Hoark! Plop! Drool runs from my lips to the sun warmed ashpalt as I let go with a dry heave. Damn! I suddenly feel fine after bulimatizing that load of pig chunks.
I look up at the jesus people who are looking at me and I yell, OUT SATAN! OUT!. Then I scoot outta that megachurch lot.
I always feel better after a major drool flo (who doesn't!)like when you need to sleep but can't, you need to sleep but can't, you need to sleep but can't and then ahaaa out you go and then wake up in a pond of the clear filmy nocturnal nectar and are forced to make that slurp sound to reenter this dimension, even though your face has bed ridges and you got a major bed hat on. Anyway, whenever the drool flows, the spirit has taken over, even though you're still alive. Kurt can't drool anymore but his spirit lives.
Hoark On!
So...what you're saying is that he's still dead. Right?
Well said.
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