LAWRENCE DETLOR

Lawrence Detlor is "a perfect spurious interpolation aping the creation
of the Mind". That is to say, he is a benign if inessential alien spy
hailing from an undiscovered, rather less corporeal planet and spending
time on this Earth, and more specifically in the New York poetry
circuit, for servile information-gathering purposes. His seeming
extreme disdain for authority is in fact a natural residue of his
perpetual overweening respect for this one true authority. His poems, though arguably enlightening to humans research-wise, are primarily written as a means of communicating the essentials of human life on Earth to this alien race, direct communication being impossible due to the threat of the aliens' discovery. Lawrence himself has had their location blanked in his memory; he can never go home again. Lacking this essential nostalgic sense, Lawrence can only hope that when he eventually wakes up to his own world again after time immemorial, he will be seen fit to be reincarnated as a human woman.

- lcd

THE TALE OF MIDDLE THE POTTER

In the desert of Kas Khaysan he lived, Middle the Potter, a long long time ago, in the little town of Raftery-sur-Azzar. He lived in his own little desert shack, with sand on its floor and surrounded by sand, at night sleeping, and by the day, while the golden image of the sun advanced along Middle the Potter’s floor until it illuminated all that would ever be worked by his hands in a honey-orange glow, employing the same nature-given tools in the quest for the perfect pot.
There were two kinds of clay in Middle the Potter’s shop. There was one, which was the standard type, used all over the world, transported on the backs of camel caravans to the lands where there was yet no clay in the ground, to the potters who worked on ships sailing over the open sea. And there was another, the very special clay of Kas Khaysan, the Super Duper Never-Dry Violet Wonder Clay. For his craft, Middle the Potter depended on Super Duper Never-Dry Violet Wonder Clay. He did not need much, but he was happy for all he could get; for even below the dark and mysterious sands of the desert of Kas Khaysan, the Super Duper Never-Dry Violet Wonder Clay was scarcer than water. All that Middle the Potter ever needed, however, was just enough to fill the largest pot he created, for, whenever he had it in mind to make a pot, this is what he would do: Out of Super Duper Never-Dry Violet Wonder Clay, he would fashion whatever shape he desired for the interior of the pot. Most often, what he wanted was a perfect sphere. So, on his one lone potter’s wheel he set down the entire mass of Super Duper Never-Dry Violet Wonder Clay that he had in the world, and he spun it. He laid his hands along it, as a man just transported from a life in the dry heat of Raftery-sur-Azzar to one in the icy caverns of the far north might like to lay his hands on a warm fire, and soon, shifting them up and down, Middle the Potter would have fashioned his entire supply of Super Duper Never-Dry Violet Wonder Clay into a shape that, as he looked upon it from above as the sun might, was all round, perfectly round, all the way down – the type of shape that any standard potter might use for one of his own pots. But no, Middle the Potter would have a surprise for them. He ever so gently raised up his fashioned shape with the very same hands he had just now ever so gently molded it with, and ever so gently laid it down again, so that it lay on its side, and so that now to see it as a perfect roundness, one would have to take as a vantage point an oblique and awkward diagonal. But Middle the Potter would soon fix that: working just the same as he had before, spinning his one lone wheel, moving his fingers up and down, until finally his mold of Super Duper Never-Dry Violet Wonder Clay could be seen by the noonday sun that beats so hard on Raftery-sur-Azzar as just as perfectly round as if Middle the Potter had never raised it up and set it down at all. And he kept going at this, Middle the Potter, past any conceivable number of viewpoints from which any standard potter could look at this Super Duper Never-Dry Violet Wonder Clay creation and say, “Stop, Middle the Potter, stop; your shape is quite round enough; you have created quite enough of a pot” – until finally, often not before the clay’s beautiful violet had become mingled with the honey-orange of the sun, he had, Middle the Potter, resting on his one lone potter’s wheel, his entire supply of Super Duper Never-Dry Violet Wonder Clay in the shape of a sphere, the form that he had desired.
And even now he would not be done; for it was still left to encase his beautiful violet sphere in the standard clay used by any standard potter, and then to repeat his entire process to this standard clay, until it as well stood on his potter’s wheel in the shape of a sphere. And out into the noonday sun he would take it, Middle the Potter, until the outside clay, as any standard potter knows, became dry, and the Super Duper Never-Dry Violet Wonder Clay did not. And once he had brought it back to his own little desert shack, had taken his short metal carving-knife and carved away a circular section of the outer shell, and scooped out all the Super Duper Never-Dry Violet Wonder Clay, to use again for his next creation, he had himself a pot, Middle the Potter did.
But it was never perfect. And Middle the Potter was unhappy.

* * *

Middle the Potter lived alone, in his own little desert shack in the desert of Kas Khaysan. So, although his beautiful pots, as far enough away from perfect as seemingly Middle the Potter alone could tell, were known far and wide, he was very grateful, Middle the Potter, when any friend took the time to visit him. It was on one such occasion, when his childhood companion, now on leave from the army, Ja’kiliya, came to visit, and Middle the Potter told him all about the pots and the spheres and the noonday sun that beats so hard on Raftery-sur-Azzar and the Super Duper Never-Dry Violet Wonder Clay, that he first recalled, Middle the Potter, any possible answer to his unhappiness.
For that day it was Ja’kiliya who said unto him, “You are poor, friend; such is a reason for any man to be unhappy. You indeed may never be satisfied with such creations as any standard potter might proffer to the people of Raftery-sur-Azzar, but here in the desert there is no need for such a pot. The inhabitants of this dry heat are much more willing to spend their money on a pot all of whose construction is based only on clay of the standard type, to buy a base pot with the money they own rather than thirst to death.”
And Middle the Potter replied, “Oh no, Ja’kiliya, I am not poor. My pots are transported on the backs of camel caravans to places far away from the desert of Kas Khaysan, places far and wide, and I know that all the transactions that occur end up in returning a due share of money to me.”
And Ja’kiliya countered, “Ah, my friend, how do you know what is due, and what is poor? You live in your own little desert shack, with sand on its floor and surrounded by sand, questing the perfect pot by day, and at night sleeping! I have seen the world, my friend; I have fought the great enemy to the West and returned to my childhood town of Raftery-sur-Azzar alive to tell this tale. Of the people of the world you suffer; you are indeed poor.”
And all that Middle the Potter could say in reply was, “I must spend all day in the quest for the perfect pot, until the sun illuminates my own little desert shack in a honey-orange glow. It is all I know how to do, or ever will.”
And Middle the Potter was only fortunate that Ja’kiliya had thought of an idea before he replied, “It is true that in such dry heat as there is in Raftery-sur-Azzar, people are not willing to spend their money on such pots, just so as not to thirst to death. But perhaps if the use were more grand and worthwhile, they might indeed provide a due share of money to you. I am speaking of wine, my friend. I know that in the dark and mysterious desert of Kas Khaysan no vines grow; yet in the regions to the West, I know, lives a vintner who is happy to provide his wares for free. When I next obtain leave from the army, I shall stop by the way and bring back, to the little town of Raftery-sur-Azzar, the wine, transported on the backs of camel caravans, provided to me by this vintner. His name is Hallelujah.”
And with this, Middle the Potter became happy again, and he and Ja’kiliya were able to laugh and joke far into the night, when he should have been sleeping, Middle the Potter. And Ja’kiliya told Middle the Potter strange stories about the regions to the West; and one he told, especially to be remembered by Middle the Potter, told of a man who could have been any standard potter being told that his creation of what was only quite enough of a pot was actually a recurrence of the original Creation of Man, as his pot was formed just as well from the dust of earth. And Middle the Potter could not comprehend what was meant by the Creation of Man, but soon Ja’kiliya had to leave, with promises to return soon with the wine of Hallelujah; and then Ja’kiliya left.
And then Middle the Potter was hopeful, so he was happy, Middle the Potter; and he kept on working all the while the golden image of the sun advanced along his floor; and he kept on making pots as far enough from perfect spheres as only Middle the Potter could tell. And he kept on waiting for Ja’kiliya to return soon with the wine of Hallelujah the Vintner; but several years passed, and Ja’kiliya did not return. And Middle the Potter was only fortunate that Middle the Potter had thought of an idea. A sphere would not be the form that would be desired any more. He would follow the tale told him by Ja’kiliya, a long long time ago, and fashion his pots in the form of a man.
And so he began anew his quest for the perfect pot, Middle the Potter. He threw out his one lone potter’s wheel out of his desert shack, into the surrounding sand; when he fashioned now his entire supply of Super Duper Never-Dry Violet Wonder Clay, and then his clay of the standard type afterhand, he shifted them not only up and down, but also in and out, and side to side. And he cared no more, Middle the Potter, what the noonday sun that beat so hard on Raftery-sur-Azzar would see; he cared only for the shape of a man, the form that he desired. And now he had a new quest, Middle the Potter, for the perfect pot; and he wrote to Ja’kiliya and told him that he, Middle the Potter, needed not the wine provided by Hallelujah the Vintner; for he was happy.
But, again, it was never perfect. And he was unhappy.
And Ja’kiliya did eventually return to the desert of Kas Khaysan, to his childhood town of Raftery-sur-Azzar, and on this occasion when Ja’kiliya came to visit Middle the Potter, he was truly frightened, Ja’kiliya, for the enemy to the West was far greater than Ja’kiliya had thought; he had received no leave from the army until now, and he was truly frightened that the enemy to the West might be great enough to overrun the dark and mysterious sands of the desert of Kas Khaysan.
So Middle the Potter, even though he was unhappy, declared to Ja’kiliya, “I know something that will make you happy, Ja’kiliya,” and he showed him a pot he had, Middle the Potter, in the shape of a man, the form he had desired.
And Ja’kiliya countered, “If the enemy to the West overruns the desert of Kas Khaysan, they will not tolerate anything in the form of a man.” And soon afterhand, he was headed back West, Ja’kiliya, to receive Hallelujah’s wine for his friend Middle the Potter.

* * *

And by the third time he, Ja’kiliya, returned to his own childhood town of Raftery-sur-Azzar, he had already received another letter from Middle the Potter, telling him again that he needed not the wine provided by Hallelujah the Vintner. But this time Middle the Potter did not even show Ja’kiliya the result of his newest quest for the perfect pot. And all that Middle the Potter could say was, “Take me, Ja’kiliya, take me with you to the regions of the West, and I shall receive the wine of Hallelujah.”
And so he did, Ja’kiliya, waiting outside for Middle the Potter to collect as much wine as he needed within from Hallelujah, now finally seen in the form of a man. But on the way back to the little town of Raftery-sur-Azzar, right on the border of the desert of Kas Khaysan, Middle the Potter was ambushed by one band of the great enemy. All he had brought to defend himself was his short metal carving-knife, so it was no surprise when he fell.
Ja’kiliya saw him smash into pieces on the ground, Middle the Potter, and wine flowed out onto the desert sands.



POSSIBLY THE MOST TERRIFYING OF ALL MONSTERS: HIGHTLIGHTS FROM THE FIELD GUIDE TO NORTH AMERICAN MONSTERS

by W. Haden Blackman (Three Rivers, New York, 1998)

Possibly the most terrifying of all monsters are those whose true natures are concealed by their seemingly innocent forms.
Orange Eyes is an eleven-foot bipedal monster covered in a coat of long orange fur. Orange Eyes is an eleven-foot bipedal monster covered in a coat of long orange fur. Orange Eyes is an eleven-foot bipedal monster covered in a coat of long orange fur.
Possibly the most terrifying of all monsters are those whose true natures are concealed by their seemingly innocent forms. Sturdy scales cover much of their bodies.
Possibly the most terrifying of all monsters could have demonic powers of which we are unaware, including the ability to shoot flames from its mouth and roast humans in a blaze of fire and brimstone. Their teeth and claws violate our flesh, their stealth allows them to sneak into our homes and hide beneath our beds, and they frequently pervade our dreams.
Possibly the most terrifying of all monsters are covered in a coat of long orange fur.
These tears instantly harden and crystallize, forming long jewels that resemble exquisite chunks of amber. Snipe hunting (or sniping) has been organized and conducted largely by children. The monster’s weeping had ceased and the sack had lightened considerably.
A frog possessing a unicornlike horn emerges from the brush, while a mammoth frog the size of a cow returns from hunting. They have extremely long tails.
Indeed, the Enfield Horror does seem exceedingly “alien” in appearance: it has three legs protruding from a squat body, two exceedingly short arms, and rough gray skin.
They are capable of floating several inches above the ground and have yet to be injured by any conventional means. Some can control the weather and create massive storms, while others call forth darkness hours before sundown. The careless woman left her offspring unattended in order to meet her lover, but when she returned the next morning, she found that her children had drowned while playing on the riverbank.
The careless woman is an eleven-foot bipedal monster covered in a coat of long orange fur. Feeling sympathy for the mewling beast, including the ability to shoot flames from its mouth and roast humans in a blaze of fire and brimstone, the young woman nursed it, but the Terichik began to grow at a rapid pace, doubling in size within minutes. Long jewels that resemble exquisite chunks of amber frequently pervade our dreams.
The Deer Woman’s victims often appear to have been beaten to death, but can be differentiated from casualties of more mundane murders by the oddly satisfied expressions on their otherwise lifeless faces.
Although many have relations with humans, this is usually part of an intricate disguise, and most Vampires view themselves as far superior to mere mortals.
The Deer Woman’s victims often appear to have been beaten to death, but this is usually part of an intricate disguise, and is an eleven-foot bipedal monster covered in rough gray skin.
Orange Eyes is an eleven-foot bipedal monster covered in a coat of legs protruding from a squat body, two exceedingly short arms, and inexplicable fear and horror.
Orange Eyes is an eleven-foot mammoth frog the size of a cow whose true natures are concealed by their seemingly innocent forms.
Indeed, the Enfield Horror often appear to have been beaten to death, but when she returned the next morning, she found that her children had drowned while playing on the riverbank. They have extremely long tails capable of winding several times around their bodies.
These tears instantly harden and crystallize, forming long jewels that resemble exquisite chunks of amber. Sturdy scales cover much of their bodies.
She stumbled upon several large metal drums half-buried in the snow and was able to squeeze into one to escape the elements.
Although many have relations with humans, feeling sympathy for the mewling beast, including the ability to literally suck flesh and muscle from the bone, even the most courageous monsterologists will be overwhelmed by inexplicable fear and horror.
The Enfield Horror is an eleven-foot mewling beast suddenly ripping into the cabin of an aircraft, a child or a basket of food left seemingly untended near the edge.
Indeed, once the monster’s lips wrap around the victim’s finger, the Cannibal Babe’s mouth begins to literally pluck its tearful brother from a cradle, open its jaws wide, and swallow the child whole, organized and conducted, near the edge of the monster’s vast habitat.
Indeed, they are capable of floating several inches above the ground and have yet to be injured by any conventional means, while a mammoth frog the size of a cow begins to literally pluck its tearful brother from a cradle and swallow the child whole. Mother Leeds followed the beast into the next room and watched it pluck its tearful brother from a cradle, instantly harden and crystallize, and roast humans in a blaze of fire and brimstone.
Unfortunately, once the monster’s lips wrap around the victim’s finger, the Cannibal Babe’s mouth begins to literally suck flesh and muscle from the bone.
A frog possessing a unicornlike horn is an eleven-foot bipedal monster. A frog possessing a unicornlike horn is an eleven-foot monster’s vast habitat. A frog possessing an eleven-foot unicornlike horn is one of the most recently discovered monsters.
One of the most recently discovered monsters, El Chupacabra, or the Goatsucker, is a savage beast known to hunt the skies from South America to Canada.
The Armouchiquois population is relatively small and only known to occupy the lands around the Great Lakes, where they compete with humans for suitable living space.
Unfortunately, once the monster’s lips wrap around the victim’s finger, the Cannibal Babe’s mouth begins to literally suck flesh and muscle from the bone.
El Chupacabra. El Chupacabra. El Chupacabra. El Chupacabra, or the Goatsucker. They have yet to be injured by any conventional means.
Fortunately, children often know of the Bogeyman’s weaknesses, which you may be able to exploit to destroy the creature.
The careless woman left her offspring unattended in order to meet her lover, but when she returned the next morning, she found that her children had drowned while playing on the riverbank. His one true love was dancing, and his skill was legendary throughout what is now Alaska and northern Canada. Sturdy scales cover much of their bodies.
His one true love was El Chupacabra, or the Goatsucker, an eleven-foot bipedal monster covered in a coat of flesh and muscle from the bone and roast humans in a blaze of an eleven-foot unicornlike horn throughout Alaska and northern Canada.
Although many have relations with humans, they are capable of floating several inches above the ground, and most Vampires view themselves as far superior to mere mortals.
If you succumb to this desire, which is likely, force yourself to remember that the animal cannot be killed or captured. It eats only ax handles, a unique diet that makes the animal the bane of logging and lumber operations. According to lumberjacks, it might be lured out into the open by a child or basket of food, has a rubber hide, and a tendency to explode whenever close to fire. If you succumb to this desire, this is usually part of an intricate disguise.
It eats only ax handles, a unique diet that can be differentiated from casualties of more mundane murders by the ability to shoot flames from its mouth and roast eleven-foot bipedal humans in a blaze of rubber hide and flesh and muscle from the bone throughout Alaska and northern Canada. They are capable of floating several inches above the ground.
A creature that once agreed to eat only white settlers who roamed too close to Lake Walker, Nevada, provided the local Native Americans would leave the monster in peace, who have for generations preserved the following method for catching the birds, imagine a bird with talons the size of a its tearful brother from a cradle, can also appear in a variety of other forms, including that of a sallow giant with greasy hair and round, yellow eyes. Some can control the weather and create massive storms, while others somehow manage to perform these complex violations without spilling a single drop of blood onto the grass or the animal’s hide.
The careless woman left her offspring unattended in order to meet her lover, but when mending the wound with an invisible thread that magically heals all surface signs of the vivisection, she found a cursed soul who has been refused by both heaven and hell and is now trapped on earth. Phantom Kangaroos, in contrast, have been known to cover fifty miles in under a half hour and can be differentiated from casualties of more mundane murders by a unique diet that makes the animal the bane of a creature that once agreed to eat only white settlers.
These tears instantly harden and crystallize. His one true love was dancing, and his skill was legendary throughout what is now many of North America’s monster lakes. Their stealth allows them to sneak into several large metal drums half-buried in the snow, left seemingly untended near the edge of the monster’s vast habitat.
Unlike many of North America’s monster lakes, which only play host to a single entity, Iliamna Lake in Alaska boasts an entire population of strange aquatic creatures.
In almost all cases, the Mutes somehow manage to perform these complex violations, those whose true natures are concealed by their seemingly innocent forms; Phantom Kangaroos, in contrast, have been known to cover fifty miles in under a half hour, and children often know of the Bogeyman’s weaknesses.
Since she can bear a lake in the palm of her hands, only the speediest swimmers will be able to avoid being scooped into her all-encompassing mouth.
Fortunately, the Honey Island Swamp Monster has thus far failed to live up to its fearsome reputation and is not likely to injure witnesses.