TOTAL CHAOS FOREVERMONTH: Ana Bozicevic-Bowling

How is their face different from a castle?

--Ana Bozicevic-Bowling, "Legal Counsel"

I returned home from Savannah last week, and Document was waiting for me. It is a literal passport, and with it I traveled behind the Organdy Curtain of the author's face and into her gray-weather country, where the landscape is lovely and where the speech is free. Gaze upon my gratitude--or better yet, come join me here!

Snout Sickness, Throb Face, and Hot Throat

I have them all. Never fear, though, I will return as soon as this horse liniment starts working!

RECRUDESCENCE

I homecome bearing a photorealistic portrait of the gator I glimpsed on my trip. His mouth was open to kiss, not kill; his hands were raised to fondle me and his claws were flexed to comb my hair, but my jagoff husband prevented me from leaping out of the car and into his embrace. O gator, turn the tables and make a living purse of me!

Drink Deep of my Hiaterade Once More

I am so tense, my porkies. First my Paypal account was hacked--the thief bought calling cards, very classy--then an unrelated check was lost in the mail, and then I discovered that I have to go out of town for a few days starting tomorrow. My hands are ooey with emotional paint, I thought darkly, let me smear it as God intended. The result is a painting I am pleased to call Nautilus of Fury.

Clawfoot Bathes the Baby: Installment the Fourth

Clawfoot Bathes the Baby: Installment the Third: Can You See the Pictures?

Clawfoot Bathes the Baby: Installment the Second

Clawfoot Bathes the Baby: Installment the First!

Stick THAT in Your Craw and Drink It!

Allow me to introduce a brand new POETRY COMICAL called "Clawfoot Bathes the Baby." The baby in question is one Babyfaced Dino, that old familiar dino with a baby for a face, pictured here naked but thankfully unbearded. The clawfoot in question is a delicious vague animal of my own imaginings--a sort of Grizzly Panthercow. Whether he is tame, and whether he is tender, I am not yet sure. I leave it to future episodes to decide. The title alludes, of course, to the world-renowned poem I wrote a few weeks ago, "Baby Takes Relaxation in a Clawfoot Full of Cologne," which first appears to address the topic of infant mortality, but on closer inspection is revealed to address the topic of nothing at all.