Issue 6: Dialectic vs Antinomy
A Publication of the USF MFA in Writing Program

A Letter to Kilgore Trout

Ryan Bird

Dear Kilgore,  
At this very moment, I am writing you this   
letter upon a series of glossy fliers promoting   
various ethnic massages. The windshield of  
my sedan is so littered with these distractions   
that I possess little hope of seeing oncoming   
traffic ever again. In short sir, I am asleep.   
I have lodged myself in Ilium, New York, &   
I cannot awake. Do you know a way out,   
a secret off ramp, or perhaps some direct   
route that requires a complete lack of vision?   
I have a keen suspicion that I'm snoring   
rather loudly, & am undoubtedly annoying   
my fellow passengers in the nearby Dining   
Car, so I shall be brief: Help. I am located in   
the third row of the Red Light Lot of the Pan-  
Amorous Mall in North by North West Ilium.   
The crowds of shoppers are swirling around  
me, Kilgore, so time is of the essence. You see,  
last night a vote was cast by the Ruling Party  
which decreed that all non-reproductive sexual   
fetishes would, not only be legally sanctioned,   
but receive monetary government sponsorship.   
The only catch is that all likeminded partners   
must be paired up within an allotted time.   
Oh Kilgore, I have no partner. I have no time.   
My last hope is to be directed out of Ilium.   
I have simple wishes: I merely wish to wake   
up beside the Dining Car window; I simply  
wish to consume my whole wheat tuna melt   
while a harsh landscape, that I cannot help   
but distinguish, zips by me in glorious reverse,   
like a malfunctioning teleportation device.   
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