Abecedary
A is an Apple, as everyone knows.
But B is a …. What do you suppose?
A Bible? A Barber? A Banquet? A Bank?
No, B is this Boat, the night that it sank.
C is its Captain, and D is its Dory,
While E – But first let me tell you a story.
There once was an Eagle exceedingly proud
Who thought it would fly, in the Form of a cloud —
Yes, E is for Eagle, and F is for Form,
And G is the Grass that got wet in the storm
When the cloud that the Egale unwisely became
Sprinkled our hero and all of his fame
Over ten acres of upland plateau.
So much for that story. Now H. Do you know?
H is the Hay that was made from the Grass,
And I’s the Idea of going to Mass,
Which is something that only a Catholic would do.
Jews go to Synagogue. J is a Jew.
K is for Kitchen as well as for Kiss,
While L is for all of the black Licorice
You can eat in an hour without feeling ill.
M is for Millipede, Millet, and Mill.
The first is an insect, the second a grain,
The third grinds the second: it’s hard to explain
Such a process to children who never have seen it —
So let’s go to the country right now! YEs, I mean it.
We’re leaving already, and N is the Night
We race through to reach it, while P is the Plight
Of the people (Remember?) who sailed in that Boat
That is still, by a miracle, somehow afloat!
(Oh dear, I’ve just nocied I’ve overlooked O:
O’s an Omission and really should go
In that hole – do you see it? – between N and P.
No? It’s not there now? Dear O, pardon me.)
Q is the Question of how far away
A person can travel in one single day,
And whether it’s worth it, or might it be better
To just stay at home and write someone a letter?
R’s are Relations, a regular swarm.
Now get out of the car – we’ve arrived at their farm!
S is the Sight of a Thanksgiving feast,
And T is the Turkey, which must weight at least
Thirty pounds. U is Utopia. V …
V simply Vanishes – where, we can’t see –
While W Waves from its Westernmost isle
And X lies exhausted, attempting to smile.
There are no letters left now but Y and then Z.
Y is for You, dear, and Z is for me.
from “Remembering Tom Disch” by Scott Edelman:
[In New York City, the editor] Alice K. Turner graciously hosted a memorial last night [October 18, 2008] for the late Thomas M. Disch so that friends and family could gather to collectively remember him. The night of the 18th had been chosen because that was when the Disch clan, including his younger brothers Jeffrey and Gregory (twins five year’s Tom’s junior) and younger sister Nancy (ten year’s Tom’s junior) could arrange to be there, and I want to thank them and the rest of the family for allowing us in so that we could grieve and celebrate him as a group.
There were many familiar faces from science fiction there, such as Sheila Williams, John Crowley, Chip Delany, Ellen Datlow, Gregory Feeley, Jacob Weisman and others, but there were also people I had previously known only as names, and their presence was evidence that Tom’s work mattered far outside the SF field.
So also there last night were people such as Dana Gioia, Chairman of the National Endowment for the Arts, and David Lehman, editor of The Oxford Book of American Poetry. Writer and translator Christopher Ecker, who is busy translating Tom’s poetry into German, flew to the U.S. purely so he could honor Tom last night.
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