SCHRADER Small Pieces of the Whole Drops congeal; a leaf becomes an insect canoe. He speaks his oak age like rain drips from drain spouts, opens like the butter yellow blooms, lectures ceaselessly as the wind that blows the flower buds. Wet jeans stick to my legs, blisters slide along the roof of my mouth. He talks on... about whorled milk-wort, aromatic aster, the brown smoothness of a fallen buckeye... Transforms into Rattlesnake Master, thisJack-in-the-Pulpit of Biology, whose whip-like tongue of bamboo breaks the soft stickiness of spider-web bridges. eighty CORNFIELD REVIEW I wish I was in a blue hot air balloon over an aquavelva sunset on an island in the middle of a marsh. Seagulls swoop to catch bread pieces, I see through a dwarf iris, hike in the plush thickness of grass, stand under a toad mushroom, the rain like the sting from a strong shower... and he goes on, like a big cat on catnip, about the square-stemmed monkey flower, and how the cougar's nipple is but a small piece of the whole. eighty-one Schrader, Amanda. "Small Pieces of the Whole." The Cornfield Review 22 (2005-2006): 80 - 81.Available online at http://cornfieldreview.osu.edu. Copyright held by the author.