How American Literature Happens
by Gabriel Orgrease

In the cemetery the tall guy told us he had written a letter to his governor to suggest that he might want to go for a walk in the cemetery. It being a somewhat old and fine cemetery surrounded by highway, a bubbly crick, poison ivy, a cigar bar, and an old house that won’t let anybody in to see it’s basement. Something went on about how his father walked somewhere with the governor’s father. How he knew the governor’s wife likes to go for walks. How his children like to go for walks. How his dog likes to go for walks. It was a long walk in walking logic. And then to suggest that the governor bring his friend Donald for a walk.

I’m not sure if that is an imaginary friend. But the quandry was that he was told then he would need to invite the county executive, and his wife, and children, and his cat, seeing as he does not have a dog, but does a turtle, that walks slow. No, none of that is true. The turtle rides in a little red wagon. But, honestly, does it really matter? So then he would need to invite the local school board and their children and all the teachers and all their children and all the parents and all their children and there would be so much of a walk that all the revolutionary veterans would be trampled with the extra weight of cats and dogs and one miniature pig.

Then we hear him ask what is the number that has thirty zeroes behind it? His friend, with an air of confidence says, “It is the largest number!” I am quickly reminded that at one time humans could not count past three. “No,” he says. “It is a zillion, right?” “No, no, no it is the number of stars in our whatever cosmos, our neighborhood, or you know... (waving arms in the air in a laconic manner) ...and people don’t know that.” I am enraptured by the grave markers, the green grass, blades of iris, rocks, the mocking birds, trucks, the odd couple that drove up in the black van then proceeded to throw children’s clothes into the hedgerow. A pink top, black shoe and a tiny sequined purse. But, to the point, there is a shitload of stars out there and the tall guy wants to tell us all about it. That, he says, is why he started a YouTube channel.

 

How American Literature Happens
from
Metaphysical Times
Volume XII Number 3
"Inspiration"
Fall 2018