Tuesday, November 13, 2018


I have finished with my latest revision of our interminably in-preparation manuscript about a fossil mound in north Alabama. We really are getting closer to being done, at which point we will be ready to send it out for review  and have it return, perhaps much later, covered with red ink (digitally speaking). Now it's time to get back to my other big project, revising a  30 year old book, and greatly expanding it!


Wells' machine was just the first

C 22, travelers were hopping
like fleas on a hot griddle

the whip of time, that snake
rippled and reformed
like nobody's business

reality seethed

unlicensed changes
egg-beaten memories

the Cats put a stop
let us live, of course
 no cat works for a living

Monday, November 12, 2018


Getting Along With Aliens

the Ophidia are a harmless folk,
feed each at least a whole cow a day;
too sated to move,
or raise their weapons,
some will be amenable to reason,
the rest won't bite:
just keep your distance!


This will only be useful to people in or near Tuscaloosa, but if that is you, please read on.

I have two pieces of accessible equipment that I no longer use and wants to give away.

1. A power wheelchair. This chair works and it has a battery charger. It's only real problem is that when you take your hand off the joystick it doesn't stop on a dime like it used to. It rolls a few inches and then stops.

2. A shower chair. The only real problem with this chair is that the armrest on the left side doesn't latch very well. I don't think it's dangerous, I used it that way for a year, but you do have to be a little careful if you pull up on that arm of the chair.

I have both of these at my house, and anyone is welcome to come get them. Call or text first: 205-246-9346, or email: jopnquog@gmail.com.

If you want this for someone in your family, or someone you know, or an agency or organization that gives or lends out handicapped equipment, then this is for you!



if you all died, the small boy said,
then who would tuck me into bed?


What Do I Win?

Ron showed the lid to the cashier at Quickie Mart.
“The contest!” He clicked the lid down on the counter and pushed it an inch or two towards the man.
The cashier picked it up, walked to the window, and stared at it for a long time. He put it back down in front of Ron. “It says 'all-expenses-paid worlds tour.'”
That was right, Ron knew, typo and all.
“But how do I get the world tour? Do I go to a website?”
The clerk pointed at some tiny print on the bottle cap. “You call that number.” He gave the lid back and turned away.
“Hello.” A pleasant contralto.
“I, um, I'm calling about,”
“The worlds tour! I'll set you up right now. When do you want to go?”
“Well, I, er, any time,” Ron finished weakly.
“Fantastic! Thank you so much for calling, and have a great trip.” She hung up.
That was the most surreal conversation he'd ever had, even stoned out of his mind. He turned, and was overwhelmed with the sensation of jamais vu, the unexpected feeling of unfamiliarity amid the familiar. Had the apartment been this untidy when he left this morning? He stepped over a pile of clothes and looked out the window. Holy shit! The lake was gone. No, it was covered with floating condos. But when had the condos been put in? His stomach was starting to feel a little queasy.
Someone walked out of the bathroom. He was short, paunchy, middle-aged, and wearing a towel.
“Hey...” Ron began.
“Gaah!” The man dropped his towel.
Ron stared, then stammered: “I thought forked penises went out with the snakes*.”
“Funny, Zilbo. You're still trespassing. What you doing in my zōn?” Then he slapped his forehead.
“Oh, right, 'the worlds tour.' Look, I don't need this today. Get out.” He nodded toward the door.
Ron opened the door and stepped out.
From the apartment behind him he heard the fat man with the Y-shaped penis say “Oh yeah, watch that first one.”

The end

Sunday, November 11, 2018


With a sinking heart, Grover recognized troll sign under his porch:
scattered small bones (cat, dog,  brownie) & a few gnawed toys.