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   w h a t    i s    a    z i t h e r

--- G .  C .  W A L D R E P

An all-but-unnoticed humming on the Island of the Uncommitted.

Is there some secret history I'm missing. The hokey-pokey, for instance. Right foot in, left foot out; shake it all about. St. Mary Murgatroyd. St. Mary Murgatroyd again. Would skiing be such a strenuous exercise if we were all very small.

I trace a continental divide, I confess a mapmaker's fetish, with my eighth finger I part that ocean. Stinking mudflats at dawn. I did not think to bring a theosophical treatise.

Have you any canned milk.

In its domestic form, an autoharp. A ball of yarn, a small dish of potpourri, a plaster figurine. This is my archaeological inquiry, this is the origin of a classical disposition. If you had a lifetime for boardgames which one would you sooner play.

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