OCCUPANTThe sad mailbox of my extreme youth, what did it ever deliver? The only...
A CRITICPick up your socks. Clean the house once in a while. Go to the dentist. ...
HISTORIANPiles and piles of books, boxes of documents, photographs, bones, shreds of clothes...
YOU WHO KNOWI was just enough bigger that I could wrestle you into the clean straw of the mow...
GRIFFY LAKEI spread my smooth water like a lap and caught the trees' faces where they fell...
Dear Eric,
We call your attention to worms. Though sweeping ice age disaster
once nearly wiped them out, they have inched back from that brink
in brainless trillions. They taught deep sleep to their cocoony
babes, learned slow moving and how to live on rot and dung.
Nowadays they flourish wherever men have settled, and the rope-like
twisting of their copulation loosens the dirt to hold more excrement
and the dead.
In the dense gardens of Indonesia worms sing all night in bird-like
tones. The worms of Oregon smell like fragrant trillium. Think of
the miracles that so transformed their slurping throats and dank
inhuman hide.
Make these miracles yours. What do you hold or hope to gain
that betters the wealth of worms? Our teaching and our plans
for you will let you lie with worms as one of them. Accept our
help, our sympathy, and expert advice.
The Worm Council