GET FUZZY by Darby Conley
Today I’m grateful to Bucky Katt for lowering the bar. This first draft of my middle grade novel is at least a couple rungs above a list of the stuff I’ve eaten today.
That’s not to say I want anyone reading what I’ve written so far . . .
GET FUZZY by Darby Conley
This old Get Fuzzy strip does not represent any personal animosity toward poets.
Rather, it’s more a statement on my current state of mind.
Specifically, my desire to punch something.
Although, stabbing would be equally therapeutic.
As Zebu would say, “Mom’s feeling a little stabby today.”
“Stabby and punchy.”
That’s me.
Shouldn’t there be a t-shirt or bumpersticker?
.
Why I never try to tell a joke . . .
GET FUZZY by Darby Conley
Doesn’t this seem like great fun?
For instance, how about "Bob Chilly’s" THE PASTURE?
I’m going out to clean the pasture spring;
I’ll only stop to rake the leaves away
(And wait to watch the water clear, I may):
I shan’t be gone long. — You come too.
Here’s my adaptation:
I’m leaving to wade back into Scrivener mode;
I won’t stop except to wipe tears from my cheeks
(And wait for my vision to de-blur, maybe):
GET FUZZY by Darby Conley
Remember, all you outside-the-trends writers,
vampires are just ticks with capes, man.
Tracy Abell 