Open Letter

This is an open letter to the person 
who visited my hospital room on April 3rd 1978. 
You entered my room at about 12:30 PM. 
You wore a sky-blue cheesecloth chemise. 
This is what you said: 
"There are men waiting downstairs. 
They have mentioned a name to me. Now you know." 

 

This is where you started to go wrong. The sad truth is, this wasn't the first time. I had been alerted prior to your visit that it might come to this, but your bluntness was received not without the lack of an absence of forethought. It occurs to me now that  the original arrangement is strangely moot, even fraught as it was with all manner of problems. 

 Don't let me get away from the point, which was, in a word, pundip. You have long been aware of  my severe allergic reaction to this noxious excretion of the Blue Trepin species of subterranean killer moth. You were warned in a letter dated July 12, 1965 that a visit by a man named Jervis Pitkold to a medium sized Midwestern city during the previous year would result in a pissing contest, the likes of which haven't been seen before or since. Your persistence in the years since then has provided a not immoderately inspiring example to those from 'the Group' who continue to hold aloft the ideals and principals that I now (with very good reason) disdain. 

 I have come forward to present these details in a public forum now because I believe any influence that can be exerted from the larger community can only accrue to the benefit of certain lamebrains in high places whose goodwill will be sorely needed in the struggle on Dilner-Wibbitz.


Thank you.

Sincerely,

     Darlane Crutzfeld