This is the fifth part of a 7 Part letter that I, Cochran Cornell the Cantankerous Cockroach, wrote to my friend, A’nonniemouse. OK, so we begin as albino-type critters, but our colors change into the most beautiful bronze iridescent hues. This week I want to introduce you to my friend Archie…well, read on… Now, one roach that is not insecure---only very sore---is Archie. Archie lived a long time ago, like in the 1920s, but he knew exactly who he was, what the purpose of his life was. He was a special case, a transmigrated roach who, in his human life was a poet. Poor guy, he couldn’t forget his past, and he never did learn. Jumping from the top of the typewriter, over and over, misspelling words because he dove in the wrong direction. No proper capitalizations---my goodness, none of his poems ever had a capital letter! It was an embarrassment to us educated roaches. Eve worse, he was always black and blue---diving onto the metal letters as he composed his poems nightly kept him in a constant state of bruisement that made him look like our ugly relatives whom I don’t want to claim. It’s kind of like those human beings who are never satisfied with who they are. The Caucasian wants to be tan and brown, often coming out looking like a Native American or light-skinned black person. And the Caucasian person gets hair permanents, while the black person straightens out their hair. No one is ever satisfied. Nor was Archie, never learning that his natural colors weren’t to be changed that way, into that ugly shade of black-blue that hid the gorgeous hues of his fall-like colors. And he must have been swollen from the bruises. It’s a wonder he wasn’t mistaken for one of those roaches out there, the ones we aren’t so proud of. Click back next Monday night for Part 6 of this series, Cochran’s Letters About Finding His Identity. The series will continue on successive Monday nights until the letter is fully posted. The parts are filed in the category Cochran’s Writings on the Beanery Writers Online Magazine. |
