For generations on end,
men and women have looked toward the heavens
and been inspired to write poetry. I'm no poet, but even in my own
case, I managed to scratch out this haiku -
I stare at the starscounting the syllables inCassiopeia. But today's post isn't about me. It's about B. Kliban.
When people remember Kliban (if they remember him at all) they think of
him as the guy who drew all those cat cartoons. But a closer look at
his cartoon collections reveals that B. Kliban, at heart, was a poet -
There goes that rotten Haley's comet.It makes me sick, I want to vomit.You can find those two lines of pure poetry in Kliban's Whack Your Porcupine, or perhaps, Never Eat Anything Bigger than Your Head and Other Drawings. I'll check the reference when I get home.I
read those two lines more than thirty years ago, and felt a need to
share them with you today. Consider it my contribution to National
EDIT: My memory is pretty good, but not perfect.
The lines are indeed found in Whack Your Porcupine (1977, Workman
Publishing). But I forgot the caps and the exclamation points and the
spelling error -
THERE GOES THAT ROTTEN HALLEY'S COMET!IT MAKES ME SICK! I WANT TO VOMET!
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