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Mines the wonder
Living is an act of aggression. Every time I go out of the house it upsets the balance of the universe. Today I had someone tell me that things were coming undone, old news I replied. They said they were searching for the lost glory but I swear the only thing down that block is a liquor store, a gas station, and an industrial supply house whose rolling door looks so old it amazes me every time I walk by that it doesn’t fall off and crush me. I still bear that burden once a week, it’s the shortest route to the liquor store, I try to be stoic about it. Sometimes when I am sitting on the couch I think a profound thought such as ‘’what if these fleas were not meant for me, what if they were meant for someone else what have I gone and done?’’ In the final judgment, true virtue is going to be thin on the ground. Am I redeemed in the fact that they are fruitfully multiplying, held in surety, or is it usury, for the true and worthy recipient? Another mark in the book of deeds I tell you, and not the good kind. The postman is a really nice guy, I see him out there right now installing some brand new zip-tie on the mailbox to hold on the door that fell off last month, the birds nesting in the back won’t like that. Oh well, I will have to cut it off again, and this time I will have to bring the door in till the birds move on. When they do I will take it back out there and clean out the nest. Then he can zip-tie it back on for good. These timely maintenance tasks are all about scale, I say better luck next time.  One little round spot of light in the world, that shines through the barn roof where a nail worked loose is that there is no point in changing, that would only make things worse. As to the hows and the whys, all I can say is the less I know the better, but ain’t the view grand.
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