Butterflies, Accidents and Hermitage

I would like to thank Shawn for this link to the poems of Russell Edson. The poems are absurd and eccentric and yet so very insightful and visual in their descriptiveness. Actually, they're so much like the way that I think sometimes that I found it uncanny (but only those of you who know me really well would know that). Here's two that I really enjoyed (and be sure to click the link above to see more):


THE MARIONETTES OF DISTANT MASTERS

Russell Edson

A pianist dreams that he's hired by a wrecking company to
ruin a piano with his fingers . . .
On the day of the piano wrecking concert, as he's
dressing, he notices a butterfly annoying a flower in his window
box. He wonders if the police should be called. Then he thinks
maybe the butterfly is just a marionette being manipulated by
its master from the window above.
Suddenly everything is beautiful. He begins to cry.

Then another butterfly begins to annoy the first butterfly.
He again wonders if he shouldn't call the police.
But, perhaps they are marionette-butterflies? He thinks
they are, belonging to rival masters seeing whose butterfly can
annoy the other's the most.

And this is happening in his window box. The Cosmic
Plan: Distant Masters manipulating minor Masters who, in turn,
are manipulating tiny butterfly-Masters who, in turn, are
manipulating him . . . A universe webbed with strings!
Suddenly it is all so beautiful; the light is strange . . .
Something about the light! He begins to cry . . .




A HISTORICAL BREAKFAST

Russell Edson

A man is bringing a cup of coffee to his face, tilting it to his
mouth. It's historical, he thinks. He scratches his head: another
historical event. He really ought to rest, he's making an awful
lot of history this morning.
Oh my, now he's buttering toast, another piece of history
is being made.
He wonders why it should have fallen on him to be so
historical. Others probably just don't have it, he thinks, it is,
after all, a talent.
He thinks one of his shoelaces needs tying. Oh well,
another important historical event is about to take place. He
just can't help it. Perhaps he's taking up too large an area of
history? But he has to live, hasn't he? Toast needs buttering
and he can't go around with one of his shoelaces needing to be
tied, can he?
Certainly it's true, when the 20th century gets written in full
it will be mainly about him. That's the way the cookie
crumbles--ah, there's a phrase that'll be quoted for centuries
to come.
Self-conscious? A little; how can one help it with all those
yet-to-be-born eyes of the future watching him?
Uh oh, he feels another historical event coming . . . Ah,
there it is, a cup of coffee approaching his face at the end of
his arm. If only they could catch it on film, how much it would
mean to the future. Oops, spilled it all over his lap. One of
those historical accidents that will influence the next thousand
years; unpredictable, and really rather uncomfortable . . . But
history is never easy, he thinks. . .