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We have Franny and Zooey, Sylvie and Bruno, and now Tipper and Scooter…​


Tipper was a girl from the far meadow.

Scooter was a boy from the near one.

They didn’t meet and fall in love.

Not at first as the stars weren’t aligned.

Tipper wore a bright yellow dress.

Scooter wore one on Mondays.

They met on a Tuesday.

When Scooter was wearing his Sunday best.

Tipper says - oh you are rude to scoot past me so.

Scooter says - but lass, I tipped my hat to you.

- the hat that flew off my head.

- and went from the far meadow to the near one.

- hither and yon, anent and anon.

- and even thence and whence.

Tipper does not like these words.

- I do not like your words.

- I cannot be yon if I am hither.

- whence I come, and thence you go.

- wearing your Sunday best.

- on the wrong day in the wrong meadow.

- silliest of silly boys.

Tipper and Scooter ran together in the rain.

Forgetting their dress and the ill words.

Our motives are different, they said.

Even our reasons for breathing aren’t the same.

But the stars aligned, and the sun passed into Ophiuchus.

But not Serpens Cauda nor Caput.

Tipper and Scooter fell in love then.

Their yellow dresses shredded by passion.

Scooter tipped and Tipper scooted.

And the near and far meadows became one.
— Peter Booth
Tipper and Scooter

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