November 4, 2021
European Starling
A galaxy in feathers soars
Starlight in avian form
A harsh cry to make ears sore
Mobbed feeders look all forlorn
Hopping oceans makes my name
A bitter misnomer
Thriving from Oregon to Maine
You’ll hope I pass you over
What am I?
November 3, 2021
November 2, 2021
November 1, 2021
In the Old World I have plenty of clout
Potent symbol but also a pest
In China they almost wiped my kind out
And with famine and bugs they were blessed
I was spread to New York not so long ago
By a man who admired the Bard
He said the New World really should show
Every bird a Shakespeare play starred
What am I?
October 31, 2021
“The center is a perpetual storm field barricaded by a curtain made of clouds,” Guide said. “The physical laws are so loose that it’s pretty much a perpetual storm, and not many folks are able to make it through.”
“Will we?”
“That’s my job,” Guide said. “If you make it to the center, you might be able to get your wish.”
October 30, 2021
October 29, 2021
“Geode catacombs,” said Guide. “Do you know what this means?”
“Not a clue.”
“People make caves all the time, but they hate boring rocks. Shiny crystals are much more exciting. So they fashion these geode tunnels for themselves, and they stay behind once the original maker gets bored, wanders off, or dies.”
“Sounds fine to me.”
“Until you realize how unstable they are, and how little stands between them and total collapse. Disturb the order, and this might all dissolve into sand.”
October 28, 2021
I grew a perfect world in miniature, a bonsai planet of stamens and petals. Botanical plate tectonics built up tiny mountains, while seas of sap ran deep. But it was not until I saw what I was doing, and looked up for the hand growing my world and I, that I realized the magnitude of what I had done.
October 27, 2021
“So you’re saying this fortuneteller knows everything?” Nori said, struggling through the muck.
“Everything,” replied Yasu. “The past, the future, all of it.”
“Well, at least she’ll be expecting us,” Nori said, leaning against a nearby boulder for a moment.
“I asked her once about that,” said Yasu. “She said ‘If I looked into the future and saw that I was not expecting you, would that mean that I would or would not have the teakettle on?”
“Typical.” Nori let out a deep breath. “At least there’s plenty of boulders to rest against.”
“Oh, ah, that’s not a boulder.”
Nori looked up, startled, as the ‘rock’ began to move. It was an enormous toad that let out a sullen croak before lumbering deeper into the mire.
“Fortuneteller’s grove, toad boulders…can today get any weirder?”
Yasu pointed at something in the distance. “I think it’s about to.”
October 26, 2021
“Shh,” said X!’tua. “An outpost of accordion trees. Up ahead.”
Gr;6if parted the fronds of newspaper-and-avocado bushes quietly, observing the deadly bellows hanging limply from the boughs of several palms, like polka coconuts. “Think we can sneak around them?”
X!’tua did not like the look of the pile of bones beneath them; he saw the skeletons of a human, a soda pop can, and a participle lying there, bones bleached. “We have to try. The Reality Tsunami isn’t going to undo itself.”
Excerpts From Nonexistent Books 