THE SUMMER SUNLIGHT
OF ANCESTRAL GRIEF
Yes, when I see that I know it is right. I light a candle,
and begin praying to the Katzenjammer Kids. I remember
my uncle, frying eels in a pan, eels which, just before, had
been sliming around while he cut them in pieces. So easy,
as if they were lazy snakes. The fryer, the fire, the frypan
itself - really not much of a choice for these fine, free things.
-
Oh well, I entered Life. Like this, I stood silent and small to
watch - people talking, and songs on a radio as big as a house.
A baseball game on a TV with the screen the size of a small box :
men drinking beer and wine, swearing to squint to be swearing
at something - single, double, home-fucking run! On Saturday
nights, just as strange, the fights - men in shorts, on that same
screen, beating the daylights out of the other to beat just the bell.
-
I often thought of nothing much at all. Was I in Hell? How did
one tell? 'If the shoe fits, wear it' - that was all they ever told
me when I found the nerve to ask. If the shoe fits, wear it, again.
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