Idle the ways of the unknowing wise;
'we've taken up this life and slithered away.
We do nothing all day.' I nod and smile.
'And that's OK too,' I say. Remembering
two weeks back, I go on, 'Here in the low
country it seems nothing much matters.
The man on the radio seemed way too
serious to be talking about Jesus, yet he
just went on and on, all through the pines
we passed. It got too much for me, for I knew
that Jesus laughed. Evidently, this fellow didn't.
When we finally stopped for something, the
one guy got out and bought a small pie. I
stayed alongside the truck, just waiting.
Inside the other small building, a Brooklyn
pizza guy was humming. Their claim in there
was that their taste was just like Brooklyn,
1000 miles away up north. Their menu looked
like a bloody field. All those reds and greens.
'Doesn't anybody think anymore?' I asked my
companion. She sat still, with a cigarette and a
slice. She said...'No, no, I don't think it's that. I
just think that no one anymore really ever knows
where they are.' Whew! Chalk up yet another
one for a sensory real perception ideal.