Reflections on a Usenet Discussion Regarding Harlan Ellison and The Last Dangerous Visions

by Karen Williams

He strides atop the stage
like an Edwardian dandy
strolling along the Embankment
of the Thames.
He gazes down
a snarl hellion
at the stormy turbulence below.

Ducks, maybe, or angry seagulls
squawk below him,
flutter their feathers.
His mouth opens
hale lion snarl
toothless beaks
snap up his words
like stale breadcrumbs.

Next seen, along a crowded corridor,
he marches
and yapping puppies snap
and bite
and nibble at his shins.
He turns with a flourish
hello in a snarl
and the barking surge surrounds him.

Terriers, worriers at socks,
bare sharp baby teeth
and piss the ground beneath them.
His mouth opens
hail, lone snarl
sloppy tongues
catch bright red drops
falling like gumdrops
from his lips.

Copyright 1995 by Karen Williams