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“Snow Story Lies,” by Daniel Holland
I always lie when I tell snow stories. You say you walked to school as a kid in two feet of snow. I say I walked in three feet of snow. Not only that–it was 20 degrees below zero. There were no bathrooms in sight, a lot of people around. I was pee-shy.
“My Dog, My Beagle, My Freckles,” a comic story by Daniel Holland
Freckles, why did you have sex with the poodle next door? Poor puppies have beagle faces and poodle hairstyles. After the love affair of the poodle, your girlfriend was that St. Bernard. When the St. Bernard jumped on the gray, roughened, falling-down fence, it shook like an earthquake. Freckles came running on all four paws…
Comedy on Tilt Slides into Fourth Year
“When you see the world on tilt rather than straight on, then you see the humor in the situation.” –Daniel Holland For years Daniel Holland, my sweetheart, dreamed of an old-fashioned comedy variety review show for Lake County, here in Northern California. My slogan is, “If you can dream, you can do.” In 2004, then,…
“She Saw,” a poem by Daniel Holland
Perched on the end of faded green roughened seesaw. Roughened by sand poured over the board. I went up and down, then suddenly stopped. Stopped in midflight by a girl child turned woman. She said, “Here I am!” with her eyes. She made the sand feel solid.
Don’t Box Me In–Medica/ta/tion Blues–by Daniel Holland
I was in my boxers enjoying my box turtle while eating my box lunch before the big boxing match on TV. But there was this old TV show “Let’s Make a Deal” and I wanted to know what was in box number 1. Imagine somebody took away the computers, pens and pencils. The only writing…
“Traveling Blister,” by Daniel Holland
When the blister wants to come out, there’s no stopping it. Walk too much–the blister can come out. Use your hands a lot–the blister will come out. “Me, Blister, I will travel.” Sit down a lot and see what happens. The end.
Daniel, you are gardener…through and through…tied to the land, so close to it, so friendly with the grit of the earth…working with the soil and not afraid to be soiled by it.
not only do I feel grit
I taste it through my nose and
see it with my hands
touching the earth along side you
a gardner too, someday