This is a book called Melissa, by Taylor Caldwell, published in 1948 by Charles Scribner’s Sons.
I bought it a while ago at Goodwill, or something, because it entertained me to have a book with the same name as me. I haven’t read it. It didn’t look very good.
Now I want to erase it, page by page. I’ve only done the first page so far. I read the page after I made a poem out of it and before I erased everything but the poem.
I want to keep erasing it and reading it, a page at a time. We’ll see how it goes.
damp little hands
on top of silence
late November afternoon
perfect & great idea! fruitful start, yes, continue, o Melissa-forager!!
Foraging…yes, interesting concept. That’s what we’re all doing, isn’t it…
Your poem is probably Taylor Caldwell’s most significant contribution to literature.
I’m using that as a blurb if I ever publish a book, Bill.
Recycling with a vengeance. An interesting concept that one can’t take too seriously. :-)
Who’s one and why can’t he take it seriously? How sad for him.
I guess if you missed the ambiguity it would seem sad. But there are two ways to read that last sentence, Melissa, and that’s what I intended. The idea of reauthoring is a serious one which has its playful side.