The 'Poem by Madeleine' arose because I was trying to get a poem done for a meeting of our little poetry group and having been slacking off on other things for a while (consulting activities interfering, once again, with life) the words weren't coming easily. Fortunately, Mady came to the rescue.

					Number Two Dooropener
 					  asked me to poem write for him.
					So here is it. But look -- be on outwatch.
					Translated he it into Dooropener using new
					   his theta brainwave software
					But I would count not on the translation
					   being accurate very.
					Know I only a few words in Dooropener
					   - such as "Zeph" (my dogfriend), "Mady"
					   (seems that to mean me), "look" (seems
					   that to mean a hard outward throatwoof),
					  and "out" (which ambiguous - but seems
					   sometimes meaning  car ride).
					Which my point is -- forms Dooropener
					   often ambiguous are -- unlike the clarity
					   bone-like of Woofrumble.
					So look, be on outwatch.
					My meaning badly twisted may throat
					   and its expression much narrowed
					   by those who be the not-havings
					   of a real nose for language



		I have thought much about
		night and day and cold and warm
		and food and nofood and water and nowater
		and head scratching and tummy rubbing
		and stillness with empty house except Zeph
		and lying on the back with the legs up
		and leaning the nose over the sofa edge
		and pawing the see-through hardstuff
		to make a Dooropener come and slide it
		so Zeph and I can in come
		and all these thoughts fit comfortably 
		into my nose at the same time
		so I can breathe them slowly into my mind
		and sniff each one in turn for its under-meaning
		and my conclusion after four seasons
		of wet earth footsquish time and 
		four seasons of cold toelump whitepowder
		and thinking all the time (when not sleep is)
		be this:



		Well maybe I should again begin
		for the conclusion is the point not;
		the rather point is my lying here 
		and a Dooropener scratching my head
		and the other one mumbling something nearby
		that is surely the point I think you will agree
		and sniffing the thought further and further
		will not change its smell
		so that surely it must simply be that too much of . . .
		that (I think) too much of . . . simply . . .
		Well I've forgotten what I was going to say.
		But look no matter - it will back come.

		And now comes Number One with some yellow smellstuff
		I have to sit up for quick before the Zeph
		Glump - it's good but has not the lasting power
		of a chewstick though it more mustodour has
		and as I was saying
		the conclusion I want to emphasize here is
		so look pay attention close
		-- except it may be time to squirrelchase for a minute
		but later there are long hours sleeping on the couch
		and at those times many fragrant thoughts
		float softly through my nose
		all of which point to the following conclusion:

		I do not know why Number Two Dooropener is
		pushing that shovel through the whitepowder.
		When I am in the whitepowder I have no thought
		of pushing a stick through it
		but sometimes a nose can find small stirrings underneath
		and this is indeed a mystery
		though I have been working on its solution
		and a nose will get cold with too much of this.

		Hey, the Dooropeners have turned the day off
		and are going up the steps into the darkness
		so time it is to beat the Zeph upstairs to get
		the best place on the bed
		which is always a good way to nose up
		important thoughts as I am doing now
		with the soft featherstuff under my ear
		so that I can hardly that ear feel at all whereas
		the other ear is feeling still a little
		which makes me realize that the
		important conclusion is . . . the right conclusion . . . 
		well I'll just nap for a few minutes
		because I feel very happy right now
		as in fact I generally feel
		and everyone is here close by 
		my dogfriend Zeph and the two Dooropeners
		even if their legs sometimes in the way get.
		There the other ear feels not at all now
		which leads . . . will lead in the morning . . . to . . .  

.....................................Copyright © Rod Anderson 1995