I pretended to study 20th century literary modernism in college, and William Carlos Williams, the doctor-poet, was my hero. He is the only modern literary figure to be named in this book; the original text that it paraphrases is something about no meaning except in things. That is as close as I can come to relating what this book is about: it is a description of a lot of odd things, places, and sensations to which I guess readers may bring their own meaning. If there are any ideas, they are embedded in the images and sensations described. There is no character development, nor are there really any characters. This book could be described as a series of impressionistic short stories or even poems.