I think a pelican is such a bad thing, and I hate to look at it more than almost anything. Your throat is your stomach and you are so, so proud of being mostly mouth. The world is meals to you, the flying scoop, and you are forever pregnant with breakfast. There is no end to the pouch of you, and I am so, so afraid of being stowed inside your handbag neck, your hateful endless sack of mouth. The expression “in rude health” seems made for you, vital from obscenity, gliding over every beach in the world with a thrashing dinner-pail strapped to you. You look like mealtime disrespect and the worst bag, a cornucopia in reverse.
you likely do not remember this but years ago I asked you a question about your fluidity of word choice and writing style, at a DC reading for the Merry Spinster, and while it was in relation to that book at that time it was also because every time I read stuff like this I'm just flabbergasted at how perfectly insanely funny you can make multiple paragraphs full of sentences that are superficially the same joke
it's art when you hate the pelican, is what I'm saying
I have terrible news. (It’s not news at all that you’re right about pelicans, every word.) A pelican flew at a friend of mine when she was twelve years old and ripped her cheek open with its beak. TWELVE. This is somehow worse than if she’d been a baby or a toddler, a more dinner-ish size. That pelican maybe had ambition. It saw a tall twelve year old and thought “I CAN DO IT.”
Hey, this is a weird question, but would you mind if I took parts of this and used them in a music piece (credited, of course)? There’s just something about it that makes me want to make a robot say it and have some strings or something behind it. A bit ‘Fitter Happier’, but more so. All good if you ain’t comfy with the idea, tho :)
"Oh, a wondrous bird is the pelican!
His beak holds more than his belican.
He takes in his beak
Food enough for a week.
But I'll be darned if I know how the helican!"
This is poetry
you likely do not remember this but years ago I asked you a question about your fluidity of word choice and writing style, at a DC reading for the Merry Spinster, and while it was in relation to that book at that time it was also because every time I read stuff like this I'm just flabbergasted at how perfectly insanely funny you can make multiple paragraphs full of sentences that are superficially the same joke
it's art when you hate the pelican, is what I'm saying
I still have this song stuck in my head from middle school choir in the 1980s:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Avx4L5qdTJo
This feels like a great companion piece to "I Am The Horrible Goose That Lives In The Town." The glory of the goose versus the sins of the pelican.
I have terrible news. (It’s not news at all that you’re right about pelicans, every word.) A pelican flew at a friend of mine when she was twelve years old and ripped her cheek open with its beak. TWELVE. This is somehow worse than if she’d been a baby or a toddler, a more dinner-ish size. That pelican maybe had ambition. It saw a tall twelve year old and thought “I CAN DO IT.”
Hey, this is a weird question, but would you mind if I took parts of this and used them in a music piece (credited, of course)? There’s just something about it that makes me want to make a robot say it and have some strings or something behind it. A bit ‘Fitter Happier’, but more so. All good if you ain’t comfy with the idea, tho :)