MR. DRAGOVICH
(the ancients)
He sold office real estate down by the marshes and park.
He'd shortened his business name to 'Dragos' and had a son,
Jeffrey, with whom I played. We did lots together though I
cannot remember much. Bicycles, baseball, and some banter,
I guess. Those years were long ago, and mostly now fulfilled -
things like Sputnik and Erector Sets kept us busy. The world
was a flat pancake - which made me always understand how
some of those ancients felt. Expectations and linear thinking
only extend outward in a long, flat sequence. When all things
are the same no one understands the circularity of a circle
and all its expectations. I think Mr. Dragovich is long-dead
now, and, Jeffrey, who knows where. My own world has
imploded and re-formed any number of times; all these
momentary flashes - like everything else - now slowly
sinking deep into their own black hole to re-appear
somewhere, pristine and whole and entire again.
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