Kurt Vonnegut, Jr. 1922-2007
Things that flash though my mind upon thinking of this man’s works:
An allien with orange rubber balls for feet, running across a lake and yelling, “Skip! Skip!”
A skinny POW, limping through the shattered moonscape of a city in ill-fitting clogs, looking for some shred of decency in humanity.
In the shadow of the barn, as the sun went down.
Birds pooping in teacups.
A picture of an asshole.
“See the cat? See the cradle?”
Kurt Vonnegut was one of my favorite writers. Rest in peace, sir. You will be missed.