Beyond the First Aisle

09/16/2006 9:57 AM – 10:17 AM

In slowing gray and chilling air, the walk took itself to the end. When we were older, we looked for wash and wear suits that didn’t give the distinct impression of the Full Cleveland. The difference between poor and poverty is the desire to keep clean.

Better lies through moon beams, better than the last thing. Where did the first walking fish arise? From what deep terror did it flee? The debate on the lobster left us cold. Is terror innate to that which will die or only that which knows it will die? Bow then, your wooden head to the passing fanfare of any old parade. The joining of a movement is precipitated by a drop in self-worth and a hope that the future will be better when one is a part of something bigger. The illusion of Something Bigger has an excellent pull. The better lies are the ones reason tells us are too good to be true.

That Girl tells better tales than I do, though mine be full of storms. Biting at the cough drop, typing with the hands, drinking with the lips, smoking with the lungs. To clean: bathroom, dishes, kitchen floor. I bought the printer cartage not realizing that I was missing a power cord. For want of a power cord, the impetus was lost. There. Then. When you notice how far you’ve strayed from the course, you return. The opposite view is there is only one course that meanders ever, ever on. The synthesis is formulated and sold in the Personal-Growth Section. Bah, there he is again. The sunlight breaks through the clouds and shines down on Wuthering Heights. Midnight’s Children also. I never read the former, but there it is, waiting for the right day. The sun rolls over and pulls the clouds around him. It is a Saturday after all. What great things prevail? Who knows. It’s too pleasant a day to dwell on the weighty things if you don’t have too. Better to trot along and guess at delightful things. Write what you write, chomping on old words. Better the blue. Better the white. The balloon rises up, the stairs go down. Nothing and no need for it, the walk takes itself to the end.