Dear Robert Penn Warren
I am feeding on the electronic signals coming through the Cosmos, picking up on these people from the Wagga Fish Letters - (they can’t write, spell or inscribe a copper plate) - and I have to warn you my old friend, don’t heed them. They once invited me on a voyage under the guise of saving Wallace Crabbe from a cell of demons who had kidnapped him in Tasmania. I went along with Wordsworth and old Sam Taylor Coleridge. There was also Emily Dickinson, (a fierce and loyal friend of mine). It was an Absolute Horror. There was nastiness and cruelty and many birds were needlessly slaughtered, many cats fed live Waggafish. Then the fish turned upon the felines and ate them in turn. There were Australian poets at each other’s throats, and many examples of needless Cursing. I tell you, we had a feeling like lead coming down on us in clouds of red mist. Don’t ever Go with them, they are Fiends. The red Devil himself is upon their Tongues and in what’s left otheir Minds. The Intellect was a wild beast that stalked the Red Crew. By day there was the worship of lost members of the Academy of The Future lamenting and mouthing the red letter K K K. Aside from all this, they had no intent of saving the Poor Man Wallace Crabbe. They wanted to moor their Ship at a place called Castlemaine. This township was miles inland, and they made their students pull the Ship across the land by way of pulleys and winches and sheer Manpower: many fell and they stumble all night over the bones of the Dead, blithely Oblivious of the Spiritual Consequences. And Beware a man named Tranter. He called me a madman as he himself threaded cotton through the eye of an old French hook and fished in the sky from kookaburras! O Pity this Wretched Red Crew, and as Sam says: Beware, beware, the flashing eyes, the floating hair’
When they offer you The Black Drops you know you have already Fallen.
Your Golden Codger