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Night I Dropped Shakespeare On The Cat
     

Night I Dropped Shakespeare On The Cat

by John Olson, Derek White (Illustrator)
 

Poetry. "The night I thought I dropped Shakespeare on the cat I felt the reprieve of the man who accidentally goes through a red light without getting hit, the relief of the man who falls from a high cliff only to discover he's been dreaming. But the relief isn't immediate. It takes a little time. There are those few seconds in which the reality of the bed and

Overview


Poetry. "The night I thought I dropped Shakespeare on the cat I felt the reprieve of the man who accidentally goes through a red light without getting hit, the relief of the man who falls from a high cliff only to discover he's been dreaming. But the relief isn't immediate. It takes a little time. There are those few seconds in which the reality of the bed and sheets and room penetrate and so permeate the dream-ridden brain that the dream finally dissipates, melts back into the night from whence it came. There was no cliff, although the fiction of falling, the dream of falling was so real the brain believed all the whirling and twirling and limbs splaying and ground coming up were real. Meaning there is sometimes reality in irreality. Meaning a dream can be mud. Genuine as rain. The space in which I believed there to be a cat and there was no cat was that delicious space we call a fiction"--from the title piece. Seattle poet John Olson is also the author of FREE STREAM VELOCITY, OXBOW KAZOO, and ECHO REGIME, all available from SPD.

Product Details

ISBN-13:
9780977072330
Publisher:
Calamari Press
Publication date:
01/28/2006
Pages:
160
Product dimensions:
5.50(w) x 7.50(h) x 0.50(d)

Read an Excerpt

The night I thought I dropped Shakespeare on the cat I felt the reprieve of the man who accidentally goes through a red light without getting hit, the relief of the man who falls from a high cliff only to discover he's been dreaming. But the relief isn't immediate. It takes a little time. There are those few seconds in which the reality of the bed and sheets and room penetrate and so permeate the dream-ridden brain that the dream finally dissipates, melts back into the night from whence it came. There was no cliff, although the fiction of falling, the dream of falling was so real the brain believed all the whirling and twirling and limbs splaying and ground coming up were real. Meaning there is sometimes reality in irreality. Meaning a dream can be mud. Genuine as rain. The space in which I believed there to be a cat and there was no cat was that delicious space we call a fiction.

Meet the Author


John Olson is the author of eight books of poetry and prose poetry, including Backscatter: New and Selected Work, The Night I Dropped Shakespeare on the Cat, Oxbow Kazoo, Free Stream Velocity, Echo Regime, Eggs & Mirrors, Logo Lagoon, and Swarm of Edges. He has held multiple jobs over the years, including 19 years with a mailing service, and is currently occupied as a free lance writer. Some of his articles and essays have appeared in The Stranger and the Seattle Weekly. Souls of Wind is his first novel.

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