Organization: Bar-Ilan University Computing Center, Israel
Date: Thu, 17 Dec 1992 15:17:50 IST
From: <X67107@BARILVM.BITNET>
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
Subject: Re: squirrels in the ceiling / Frances+Marek (1990)

>by Frances Schuetz, Marek Lugowski & CO
>Copyright 1990 by Frances Schuetz.
>Copyright 1990 by Marek Lugowski.
>Nibbleright 1992-4 by mean squirrels
   Who spilled the coffee all over my terminal ????


    silly squirrels and spiders had hours of fun with poem (up in celing)
    =====================================================================

                           ched around and the babies sometimes fe
                        and i had to chase them around with a rubber
                       outside.  it was a mess.  i wanted them to lea
                    landlord to fix the hole through which they were e
                  enance people who came in the afternoon said they made
                 rels remained inside           ching the hole, but when
                 sunset, i heard                       the ceiling.  i knew
                e of the squi                             and was now trapp
               d see it t                yum                om within with
             or her articulat           yum               the edges of the
            t floorboard ju             Donut             while nibbling
             ciously at the s                            ew its way out.
            caught the warm su                          thick crevice in
             loft floor, or the                         lar hole where
               nd the flooring did not me              eized on it as
                     as the sun set, i turned on the galley kitc
                        thinking this might help it find anothe
                               sure enough, in a minute an
                                    adult squirrel



         house.  it ran swiftly, in spurts, jumping onto bookshelves, pausing
         on the top of my most recent journal publication, watching me from
         there with a hostage-taking eye.  i tried to talk it into leaving
         through the front door that i propped up open for it, rubbermaid in
         hand.  this stand-off went on for a few minutes, until it, all the
>        while ignori                                              towards my
>        warmly lit study, the one place where i did not want it.  in my study,
>        various papers littered as they do now the desk and the floor, with
                       over and a humming workstation with color in motion on
         the screen, a modem, electronics, cables, clothes, furniture, glass,
                                  nooks for a squirrel to explore, to wage a
         protracted hide-and-seek.  it made      y intelligent choice of a
         place to keep eluding me, and i grudging      ired its choice.

         e i n d to t e n w u f v r b e o ds, i c o e   h  s ud  d  r  ehind
         m, rbbr bkt n hnd.  whn w mde y-cntct gn, apologized t th sqrrl fr
         th  undignified antics about to ensue
          nd t e  l u c e   ep at d a d u s c e s u   t e p s  t pinning it
         under the inve ted bu ket.  the squi rel a ways eas ly ev de  me
         with mil is con s to spare.  ot ced t at  t s ttled  on r nnin        g
         circ it on th  study's perimeter, th  part unobstructed by my huge
         slab of a de k, a large white elephant escaping with its v r ical
         b ar .  m yb  it d d n t w s  t  ri k  u n zz i to   d ad e d.
         its p th  ra ed a d r tr wed a di placing arc, adf omerang laid
         out, as it we e, a o g  he two clu tered but open wa ls   there it
         wo ld p use roughly h lfway to look  t me withegreat attention.
         i g t the si king feel ng that what ne gh orly ewussdfe had
         established over the winter months had been shamefully erased
         in the past ten minutes.  dda da ddaa hmmm scrumpt...

         finally, in a great blur, it jumped up
            clawing at the wooden wall
         paneling and hung awkwardly from near
            the ceiling's corner, exactly
         underneath the space where it and its
            kin used to hang out in the
         cold days.  i decided that this was a
            strategic mistake on its part
         or a deliberate here-catch-me and lost
            no time closing in.

        the squirrel would have been problematic to pin down in the corner,
        but it lurched across, along the open wall, clawing desperately.
        this improbable and taxing path slowed it down to a crawl and i easily
        yet gingerly cupped it with the rubbermaid.  then, while sliding the
        bucket along the wall, keeping flush contact, i barely reached the
        latest playboy, about the only suitable tool in the range of my
        contorted position, then gently worked it underneath the opening of
                                    the bucket



sliding it edgewise, in and out, making sure I was pinching the flesh
of the covergirl facing the squirrel, underneath the bucket, cupping
it with now captive and motionless......
when i got outside onto the wooden steps, the porch-like landing, i put        t
the playboy down and closed the door behind me. Standing outside, slowly
lifted the rubbermaid.  oddly, the cover girl remained put.
    Beautifully brown and silver-haired, brown-glisten-eyed right on top o     f
the matching brunette, you know, the one catching the o falling out o          f
playbabe, nose next to her chin, facing away from me, breathing rapidly,
which I have come to regard as

         normal breathing for squirrels, be it evicted in rubbermaid buckets
         or not, not reacting to my presence apparently.  only with some
         reluctance did it lightl                          r a minute or so.
         it then tu  ed around and sa    ere, m   onless, watching me, again,
         with great a tention.  a             gized for my small-heartedness
         and un ivil b havior and especially f r calling th
         of course led  o all this but the squirrel remained impassive.
         co    te darkne s having set in, i went back in,
         got it out alive and in fact out at all, alr
         silence in the ceiling -- only after i
         nearest tree.


                             Frances Schuetz / Marek Lugowski / Squiwwels
                             Spring months 1990
                             Bloomington, Indiana / Lake Monroe, Indiana
                             Boring winter Months o' 92/ mosly elsewhere

Yes the cute little squiwrreles, are a vindictive lot. And have practicaly
no peotic tallent. The do however like to nibble at the verse, if the
paper is any good. (mostly near the edges.) They begged and begged that I
post this. Good old me had to comply. Clearly I have no right to set limits
on others poetic talent. (I am sure they will regret the  mutilation latter)



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