The Ecphorizer
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I see sixteen basilisks basking on the obelisks As drenched dragons drink draughts at the draw In argot groans are gargoyles and gorgons arguing Griffins tiffing stiffly at sore mantichores on the shore Cameleopard of comely parts: come, ye leaping hearts Unicorns, you hill born, from yews be lorn thru this morn Lest you miss this beastly feast, this costly tryst Go lay gentle, all agents of legends on the jewelled tiles A dream you deem it to seem, but heed my rede a while Forsooth, 'tis a truth of couth youth, the pith of myth Although old as a wold, gold unfolds if told in bold words..  Hobbitiphile Albert Duro writes that his poem in this issue is "a paean of tonguetwisting, to be read loud, fast, and often." |
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 When contributors to THE ECPHORIZER wish to remain anonymous, we print their material under the name Andy Fish. As a result of this, Andy (including his avatars -- A. Fish, Anderson Fish, etc.) has begun to acquire a substance of his own. To flesh him out even further, Dorey Evans drew this sketch of Andy seated at the word processor. He is trying to remember how to spell "ichthyology." |
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Those who suspect that American book publishers have lost touch with reality will find confirmation in the following true history. In 1958 an unknown writer named John Kennedy Toole finished a comic novel called A Confederacy of Dunces. For 11 years he submitted it to one publisher after another, all of whom turned it down. Broke and despondent, Toole committed suicide. For another 11 years, his mother continued the search for a publisher until finally, in 1980, the Louisiana State University Press brought it out. The next year this book, which had been rejected by virtually every publisher in the country over a period of 22 years, won the most prestigious award in American letters-the Pulitzer Prize for fiction. |
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