Friday, October 03, 2003

Odd how everything hangs on the moment when
I love you is said
spent, the hour fading to a tiny
pink something

set to soothe, odd how
it happened without
any of us

knowing so much as to know
much better
how it should be, odd

how we never knew

Sunday, September 28, 2003

Rocking Ethy to sleep while TBN is in the background. TBN is taking a cue from the WB circa 1996 and having what appears to be all-black programming. The higher-ups are not deacons, nor reverends, nor pastors. They are Bishops. Man, they wear awesome suits and are BISHOPS. Makes me wanna up and get my ass to a tailor.

We went to a very old cemetary that dates from 1849, ancient in West coast history. I gathered chestnuts while lokoking at the gravestones, moved beyond description. Plots reserved by ancestors ant used (two graves in a space that could easily hold thirty, pushed up in the corner like cereal boxes on a Russian supermarket shelf). Names and stories, consecrated ground that I walked over with abandon. Beautiful trees growing up and out, a peace that passeth all understanding. The flow of time, people who died in 1885, 1906. The world has changed more between then and now than between 1000 BC and then.

And the Gettysburg address carved on a memorial to the fallen in 1937. I read it aloud, and a more eloquent and humble speech has never been uttered. Say what you will about the constitution, 1. it's fuckin; long and 2. it's arrogant as shit.

(side note: PATRIOT act. One thing about Bushy, he is the most blantant of presidential liars. And he has foerce competition there, bud.)

The Lone Fir Cemetary has more living history than most places you might see. Gotta look for it, that's all.