[stylist] Need to publish your stuff!! - RE: Poem "The Death of Sweet Pea" - Firstish Draft

[William L Houts]

HI Robert,

Your invitation thrills me, truly.  My work only been published in a 
small, now defunct magazine called "Talus and Scree", back in the 90's, 
and by our very own "Breath and Shadow" (many thanks for the Jackson 
bill, Mr. Chris!).  So I'd be delighted to pick out some favorites and 
see what you make of them.  There's a little history to them which I'll 
write down when I submit my stuff; I think you may find it interesting.

with all honor and hilarity,

Bill








On 5/17/2015 7:07 AM, Robert Leslie Newman via stylist wrote:
> Hey William, Mister Bill
>
> Sad, sad, piece!!! Too real. Good job on a bad happening.
>
> And so hey, the Writers' division' magazine  is looking to showcase members
> work. We've not ever published you and your stuff!!! How about a short BIO
> and some poetry? I'll attach the guidelines to this message. You are an
> interesting writer, let's share you and yours to the membership and then get
> it on our website, for the rest of the world to read.
> (Anyone else reading this has the same offer!)
>
> Respectfully yours,
> Robert Leslie Newman
> President, NFB Writers' Division (for a couple more months)
>
> -----Original Message-----
> From: stylist [mailto:stylist-bounces at nfbnet.org] On Behalf Of William L
> Houts via stylist
> Sent: Sunday, May 17, 2015 8:16 AM
> To: Writer's Division Mailing List
> Cc: William L Houts
> Subject: [stylist] Poem "The Death of Sweet Pea" - Firstish Draft
>
>
>
>
>
>
>
> Good Morning, Blinkies,
>
> Just finished a poem I've been meaning to get to for years, about the death
> of my grandmother's favorite pet, Sweet Pea.  It's not a very pleasant poem,
> but I think it has it's good points, even now. Your mileage may vary, of
> course.
>
>
> --Bill
>
>
> ---
>
> The Death of Sweet Pea
>
> A Shetland collie with papers, Sweet Pea in youth
>
> was proud as an empress,with rich brown eyes
>
> and a coat white, blackand tan, and thick
>
> as a llama's.I don't know where Granny got her,
>
> unless from some Enlgish lord loafing in Tacoma,
>
> unlikely,grand and grey. For years, she dwelt
>
> with Sugar, Babette and Fidella,
>
> as well as Jet and Goldie, Granny's eldritch cats.
>
> For years, she dined on kibble and eggs: people cuisine, almost,
>
> and we loved her like a favorite aunt.
>
> Then one day we found her, Mom and I,
>
> by the hedges. Wheezing like a chimney winded by winter's
>
> storm-cold breath.A nurse since the Crimean War,
>
> or nearly it seemed, Mom knelt by the dog
>
> and fingered her mouth, her throat.Sweet Pea breathed
>
> gusts of rusting nails, and up came blood. She lay
>
> on her side,and her caremel eyes were deeps
>
> of fathomless trust. Mom probed her side with asurgeon's
>
> harsh care, and found a hole in that heaving flesh.
>
> A large coin's width, something emerged:a white blind head,
>
> it lurched to and fro,a horror,a puppet obscene.
>
> Mom hissed. "Get tweezers and alcohol from the bathroom!"
>
> I ran, sickened andweeping, and urgent
>
> that outrage should not go unopposed.I returned
>
> with these tiny, these hopeless tools against the terrible ending.
>
> We fought for our dog, weeping as Mom drew out innocent murder from Sweet
> Pea's battleground side.But more, she fought for us,
>
> such valor she showed in her wheezing,the peace in the death-wind's gale,
>
> and the trust in those caramel eyes.
>
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-- 


"Oh, Sophie!  Whyfore have you eated all de cheeldren?"