Any time a beat-up briefcase appears at your door with a typewritten note explaining that the contents within are long forgotten writings from an eccentric puppeteer, you take time to read each piece of paper, napkin, and receipt. And when the note continues on to explain the mysterious disappearance, and even more mysterious life, of the author, you take time to read each piece of paper carefully. Looking for clues or hints to make sense of any of it.
It is with this curiosity that we present a very special collection of poetry and fiction, which we will be running in the next few issues. A cross-section of a mind unknown. That mind, one belonging to someone named Archibald Crouton. What we know of Archibald is that he was at one point a local poet, drunk, and puppeteer. That’s it.
We decided to print the writings as they came to us. Photocopies of typewritten, handwritten, crossed-out, and spit-on pieces of scrap paper. A pile of self-described filth, littering the basement of a house nobody wants. Along with the writings we have included the letter which accompanied the briefcase from a woman claiming to be his ex-wife.
We may not know very much about Archibald – who he was or where he has gone – but we do know that as we search for him we only want to learn more.