A Long Time Ago Ii Poem by Morgan Michaels

-Well, he was an eloquent advocate of inter-species relations.

-He was? Now there's something!

-Really! ?

-Carumba!

-Yes. A muskrat and a rabbit? Revolutionary, really, and illegal at the time, but he didn't care. Neither did she. They were an item.

- I sort of like this Uncle Wiggly. 'Sounds like he had 'It'. Did he have kids?

-Not that I know of.

-Hey, I have some of his books in the attic. 'Wonder if they're worth something?

-They were a...what?

-An item, Juana. It means they cut a rug.

-Oh. So, what happened to Tio Wiggly. Don't say he got Alzheimer's.

-No, he got tired. Even kindly old rabbit gentlemen get tired.

-Tired of what?

-Everything. Of life. Of 'la chase'. Of love. Of show business.

-He was in show business?

-Yes. He retired to New Jersey in 1933 at the height of his career.

-Did he get famous? Or rich?

-'It kinda depends what you mean. He did win the Snooker prize.

-The what prize?

- Whatever's that?

- For what?

-A literary contest. They had a special category called 'Nonsense Biography'. It was the first and last year. It paid nothing.

-Poor Uncle Wiggly. Can you tell me anything more about him?

-Yes. And I will-

(the girls, individually in turn, leaning forward)

-'if our fire shovel doesn't go out to play-'

-'in the sand pile and get it's ears full of dirt-'

-'We'll tell you about Uncle Wiggly on the Concorde.'

-Wait a minute...on the Concorde?

-Morgan, you'll just have to be there.


-I will. Good night, girls.