Wanda to Gary Snyder

[Steelhead]

More from the Tinasky file.  January 7, 1987

An Open Letter to Gary Snyder

Dear Mr. Snyder:

RE:  The line "Anyone can tell a Parthian by his turban," in "Versions of
Anacreon," "(From John Taylor's literal interlinear.)":

I believe the Parthians, as such, were known for a distinctive --cap--,
rather like an upside-down tulip in shape.  Did they wear turbans?  Perhaps
they wore turbans afoot; certainly on horseback their --stirrups-- would be
a great distinguishing feature (presuming that they were correctly credited
with inventing the stirrup, hence the bow & arrow superiority, the
"Parthian Shot," et. al.  Might --anyone can tell a Parthian by his cap (or
headgear)--be better?  Reminds me of the "cap of weaselskin" (i.e., sable)
worn by the nightspy in the Iliad, Chapman's printer making cap of cape &
subsequent editions repeating the error down through the centuries giving
rise to the "cap of invisibility" of the literary fairytales et al. (Or at
least I presume that's the way it happened; I don't know if it's written in
the books of wisdom or not.)

Well, this is probably the last time I will be irritating you, as I have
grown old & the last previous time was at the occasion of your first son's
birth, when I sent you this "poem":

How big is the moon? Big
As a silver dollar.  "Big
as a wagonwheel." One day
A red airplane flew over the house.
The walls were papered with newspaper.
The dog shit a mass of squirming worms.
My aunt said there would be no
Icing in the pan,
Then left an extra blob
Which cry-
ing I
Ate with humiliation & delight.
My father pulled off his left thumb-
Nail; threw it to the dog;
She ate it.
Heigh ho, dad was a carpenter.

& of course that was 18 or 19 years ago.  The reason I can recall that poem
is that it all happened very distinctly that way, when I was about three
years old, at which time seeing an airplane was quite an event...but now I
also remember that when you & your wife & baby son were living in a
basement apartment on the south side of Pine street in San Francisco, by
the Zen center, I disguised myself as a mailperson & took you some
miniature pink roses from a bush in a vacant lot.  Last week I went down
Haight Street & someone asked me, "Does it make you feel old?"  "No," I
said.  "It makes me feel old twenty years ago."

Tinasky