Clinton St. Quarterly, Vol. 8 No. 4 | Winter 1986 (Seattle) /// Issue 18 of 24 /// Master# 66 of 73

cUntonSCQuarterly was a nuclear Christmas when all through the shelter, every creature was glowing and ran helter skelter. The stockings were hung on the wall with precision, in hopes that the mutant would bring some provisions. The children were nestled all snug neath the floor, in hopes of avoiding a Fourth World War. And momma in her kerchief and I in my cap slouched in the corner with our heads in our laps. Then up on the street there arose such a clatter I sprang from the floor, lost control of my bladder. When what to my wondering e 1should spy, but a two-headed man with eight arms and six eyes. Only one leg had he and his skin was translucent, 1knew in a moment it must be the mutant. In the fallout he called out, Icould hear him complaining, “It’s cold and it’s lonely and this acid keeps raining. ‘‘My eyes they are blinded and I’m losing my hair, my right leg is aching and my left legs not there. “I’ve seventeen ears and more that keep growing, the amount I’ll end up with there’s no way of knowing. John Callahan lives in include toReS^to Handicapped Peof 34

RkJQdWJsaXNoZXIy NTc4NTAz