Tuesday, December 05, 2017
A Morning Salutation
Moritz Thomsen (1915-1991), The Saddest Pleasure: A Journey on Two Rivers (Saint Paul: Graywolf Press, 1990), p. 173:
Newer› ‹Older
I have been brought back to today by a gargantuan fart, the kind that if I had made it in high school would have got me immediately elected as class president. But it is not mine; I don't have the constitution to manufacture such monumentalities. It is the work of a newly arrived passenger to the deck who now stands at the railing of the ship peering furiously across the empty grassy spaces of the Amazon — Hedrik, a six-foot, six-inch Dutchman....
Another blast, a fart to match the greatness of the river, echoes and rolls out over the water, and though the Dutchman is fifty feet away I can only regard it as some kind of a European communication. A morning salutation?
"And a good morning to you," I call. "Was that beso, that kiss, for me?"
Labels: noctes scatologicae
