Okay, so he got my attention. Here's the McPhee paragraph--a story about fathers and sons and fishing, which, in and of itself, does not sound much like my writing. But this:
Pickerel have palatal teeth. They also have teeth on their tongues, not to mention those razor jaws. On their bodies, they sometimes bear scars from the teeth of other pickerel. Pickerel that have been found in the stomachs of pickerel have in turn contained pickerel in their stomachs. A minnow found in the stomach of a pickerel had a pickerel in its stomach that had in its stomach a minnow.is fantastic. Must. Now. Write. Poem. About. Pickerel.
Now thats romantic.
ReplyDeleteI have never met a pickerel, but that's as quirky as you are.
ReplyDeletelove love love the repetition
ReplyDeleteI kinda think that already is a poem about pickerell.
ReplyDeleteIn a reverse way the Pickerel story reminds me of the idea that we preexist in our grandmother's womb.
ReplyDeleteless poetically explained
every female child is born with all her eggs. Therefor when your mother was in your grandmothers womb, the egg that held your name was in your grandmother.
The rascals are tasty, too.
ReplyDeleteIf I was a pickerel, I'd eat other pickerel.
But if I was REALLY hungry, would I eat myself?