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An Ode to a Goat There I sat, across the pasture, staring in awe at the flawless beauty. I was alone at last with the object of my desire. I was overcome with the immediate urge to pet the four-legged beast. Suddenly the thought of livers and gizzards entered my mind for reasons I am not sure of. I covered the goat with bleu cheese and croutons and dressed him up like a garden salad. Then, everything got dark. I fell asleep and in my dreams I started to pose questions to myself and thought about all the people who carry around felt pens and permanent markers everywhere they go writing on the walls of bathroom urinals and stalls. What the hell is wrong with these people? Do they feel as though they have to mark their territory like the way animals urinate in the woods? Why do people find the need to deface dollar bills by writing their name, the date, or catch-phrase and post them on the walls of seafood restaurants? Is that a tourist thing, which is a felony I believe (defacing government property, not being a tourist). I could really go for some conch fritters right now...actually, make that Rocky Mountain Oysters.