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New essay: The Omniscient Book

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The Omniscient Book

By David Misialowski

Oct. 3, 1991, San Francisco

This morning I fed yellowcake to the pigeons in the park. They strutted about like diplomats, obsequiously bobbing their heads up and down at my feet as if I were a potentate to whom they were presenting their credentials and paying homage. But sometimes they cocked their heads and scrutinized me with their beady little eyes, as if they wanted to tell me a secret. Yet they never spoke. As always, the eyes of the statues followed me. Perhaps I am under surveillance, but why? I love America, the land of the free, and would never harm her.


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