An Underwater not an Underwood

Lovely video for Mark Dunn's new book, Ghost Music. I especially like the submerged Underwood at the end. Could there be such a thing as a drift-typewriter, or typewriter-glass, the letters made smooth by the current, the keys buffetted by fish? It takes a school to raise a Hamlet. An Underwater, not an Underwood.


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MOUSE BONES

The son took his guitar and travelled to another city. In his basement room, the mother found a crow sleeping under his blanket, its head resting on his white pillow.  It wouldn’t join the family for meals. It wouldn’t walk the dog or take out the trash. At night, the father heard the thrumming of this new son’s wings as it circled the low sky of the basement. My brother continues to be an opportunistic omnivore, the sister said noticing the remains of diverse vegetables, animals, and grains in dishes discovered about the house. Early morning, the younger brother heard his new brother’s creaking voice talking on his cellphone, found strange garments in the laundry. There were shiny things in the living room. A broach. A watch. A glass eye. They could hear zither music after school, its tintinnabulation delicate as mouse bones, as tiny and as sad.

Later, the old brother came home with a beard.


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My eldest son, Ryan, is in Ottawa. He just moved away from home and started university last week. But the above little piece couldn't refer to him. He's already got a beard. But, he does have a fantastic website featuring his brilliant pedal steel guitar and other guitar playing.