Friday, March 15, 2019

The playground is in decay. I can see the swing set and slide I assembled years ago bleach and rot. The vinyl canopy atop the "fort" tore many winters past and the storms and sun continue to do their job dutifully. The swing's chains are rusted to a hazard for anyone who attempts to use them for any kind of joy. The whole play set is ready to ambush the next fun seeker. I should probably tear it down but I enjoy watching it age. I tell myself I'll repair it, make it safe again for some kind of future, but It stands as a monument to my son's childhood...maybe mine too. It's a beautiful thing to see it still standing, holding on. And when the wind blows, memories sit in the swings and laugh. It all lasts for just a moment. That is all it is, a moment.

Sunday, March 3, 2019

Plastic Roll Call

Plastic wheels on the plastic garbage can roll across the asphalt and thunder. I listen for words of wisdom from Pink Floyd on the car stereo, "Welcome my son, Welcommmmme toooooo the Maachhhhhhine..."
The plastic garbage cans filled with plastic trash begin to line the street. Roll call for early morning pick up and we answer with scheduled obedience. Well maybe a few rebels, a couple fuckheads who procrastinate to the last minute to run the dawn yardage across the lawn in bare feet and bathrobe to stub their toe on the mulberry root.

Hello rebel who still answers when their name is called. Stop it. Stop answering and just stare them straight in the eye with clenched jaw and breathe. Say nothing. Just do that thing you always wanted to do whatever it is. I don't care just as long as it makes no trash, no mess to clean up or blood. Debt of money is an illusion compared to debt of soul. So if you stopped kicking your trash to the curb to make room for more imagine the time you just gave the garbage collector...an eternity maybe. And what's the time you just gave yourself worth? A Life?