Four pages later

blew up.

Did it? An apostrophe to the epistolary form — and why not? Will power — that three.

    At just that three (nearly seven, now) a flying milkjug (they don't all use saucers — some of them have mugs) landed and some biggish green inhabitants emerged. "Remember us?" they said, in proto-Indo-European, "we're back. It took a few millenia but — we learned your language. Just to show we're not into cultural imperialism. We merely intend to exterminate you — have a nice day."

    "Not bad, but you haven't quite grasped the idiom," said Professor Igloo. "Unfortunately we speak American now. So had better jolly well beetle off and learn it!"

That was an interjection on behalf of the plot. Now — back in the metatext... wordz-a-poppin. (ah yeah!)

"Anyone who can't spell 'millennia'." (Mr Mad)

Up we shall journey

Up we shall journey, to the wild wastelands of the North
Desperately wondering whether the voyage will be worth
it. And yet as we travel the distance to places afar
Our thoughts will turn to Liz at home, reading Glas.
We hope she will prove able to cope by herself
And that she won't consume anything deleterious to her health.

All that I would say to you is this — mind the text,
Liz, mind the text, lest you have a surfeit of it,
Wherefore we might have, on our return, to inform your next
of kin as to your impending insanity. But what of it —
It will now be apparent that I have difficulty
Making this rhyme ———

but tell me, o Liz, can I be blamed for this?
Is it a crime?

P.S. Don't be too garrulous here in our absence.
& have a good Easter moose.

Elk, eek

    Elk to the left of them, elk to the right of them
    Into the negative space
    Rode the five hundred moose

"Dark in here!" said some of them.

"Mooses in here!" said others.

"Elk!" said the elk.

"Text" wrote the text.

"Texting, texting, 1, 2, 3, texting," said the Moose.

"Eek, a moose!" screamed the early sixties sitcom woman.

{Drawing of a stick woman standing on a table, pointing at a tiny moose on the floor}.