Thursday, June 16, 2005

They Seek Him here, They Seek Him there...

Another cryptic poem from the Flatlander. It seems that he was at some sort of luncheon, possibly at an old-age home. Even in his disenfranchised state Flatlander has the survival instincts of a jungle cat, and the training of an Urban Ranger. He could live comfortably off the lay of the land in any North American metropolis--even the suburbs! For this reason, I don't worry about him too much. But the mystery of his disappearance remains. Going through the recycling bin, I found a flyer for a potluck lunch at the local recreation centre where the Flatlander used to swim. Could it be that he is hiding out right under our noses, here in the North End? I get the feeling that he is having some fun with us, leaving cryptic clues in his little poems that might lead--to what? Some kind of weird treasure perhaps.

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