the poor Tyger

an excerpt from Glass Chimera:


A bright security light cast its beacon of safety through misty rustling darkness, and across the domesticated wilderness of Audubon Park. Its glinting wavelengths flickered upon the ripple of a black zoo-pond. And that reflecting light shone across the untamed eye of an unexpected night wanderer, one whose goings forth were unaccounted for and certainly unauthorized. Meanwhile, while somewhere in the world at that very instant an errant author or wild-eyed reader was fixing their refined, so sublime homo sapien attention upon some worn-out, quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore, which being surely squandered and nearly nappingly pondered, did boldly pose their question to the restless beast,

” Tyger, tyger, burning bright

in the forests of the night

what immortal hand or eye

could frame thy fearful symmetry?”

… why, why, the very tiger did creep and creep, then leap and leap, o’er its very irksome cagey keep and pounce upon the earthen floor, its captive status to endure. . . nevermore!


And so Harry Clerval, while his wife Clarissa was hearing Gladys’ gossipy tale, did squint through the Louie’s window toward the tall oak tree across the street in the churchyard. For, as he carefully yet blinkingly observed, he thought he saw a tiger, a striped Bengal tiger, crouching among the branches, perched above, no doubt ready to pounce upon, unsuspecting passersby below.

“What the hell?”



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