“The thing that was magic about it was that once you put down one word, you could cross it out. . . . I put down mountain, then I'd go, no—valley. That's better.”

The raccoon got up on the roof and wouldn’t come down. I threw rocks 
at it and it danced between them. Finally I decided to get my shotgun.
I got a ladder from the garage and climbed up on it. Then I took aim and

        I sat at my desk and contemplated all that I had accomplished
this year. I had won the hot dog eating contest on Rhode Island.
No, I hadn’t. I was just kidding. I was the arm wrestling champion

When I came out of my study, Ginny was standing there with
wet hair. “Are you going to town today?” she asked me. “I wasn’t

I hold no greater value
than the secret
Please believe I strive

I wish somebody would give me
a couple of live panda bears.
After all these years I deserve them.

My bird is the cardinal,
one will sometimes come to me

or vanishing bluebird,

The light that is shining
over there is a traffic sign.
I returned the money I borrowed.

Come on, let's conjure up
something really horrible:
What would you most hate

James Tate’s poem “Zebras Anything” appeared in our Fall 1975 issue. I wish somebody would give me
a couple of live panda bears.
After all these years I deserve them.
Yesterday I nearly went insanesearching for a toucan:
“No toucans!” everywhere …