Tuesday, July 01, 2003

I finally found a copy of Kenneth Koch's novel The Red Robbins. My housemate lent me his copy a year and a half ago and I've been searching for my own, without any luck, ever since. The novel begins (without indentations, I haven't learned the html yet):

Jill ran her fingers down the tough golden beard of history. It was fine being there, but she wished there had been boards on the floor. Professor Flint was late; it was already three o'clock. "Chow down!" shouted the corporal, and all the men ran in to the eating quarters. "Very tropical weather, Sergeant," said "Dutch," an unusual man who had been hanging around the camp a lot recently. The cord snapped, having suddenly come undone, and the hawsers slipped out onto the blue, frothy waters of Lake Superior.

Joycie was swimming, as usual, without any clothes on. A big bird passed over the tub which had been covered with black tar by a recent accident. The planes sped by. Jules hugged Bonny, but Bonny wasn't very responsive and so Jules finally shrugged his trembling yellow shoulders and went back into the little hut where he began pulling apart the whitefish. "So this is Alaska," said Uncle Mutt -- "quite a layout you've got yourself here!" Lyn was afraid he would try to sleep with her because she didn't have any clothes on.

"Santa Claus" mounted the big black sweating horse panting with energy; "Santa Claus" was the nickname of this big criminal who rode off into the West . . .

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