Month: July 2011

A man, you see, holds onto the fence. He holds it like a fourteen year-old girl’s hair when he’s got his tongue in her mouth. Tight, firm grip. When he steps up he wraps each finger around rusted wire, installed by Waterman & Co. circa 1978. He holds the fence like it’s the baby he’s going to produce with some haina. He can’t be down unless he holds the fence. He can’t be a man until he gets book bags full of sharp cornered books dug into the soft between his shoulder blades by his homies. In other places he would get beat down to the floor leaving him bloody meat and beggin’ strips. When he holds the fence here he is bound to let his back take the beating. When it’s over he can let go of the fence and wonder why it mattered when it didn’t really hurt at all.

A man, you see, holds onto the fence. He holds it like a fourteen year-old girl’s hair when he’s got his tongue in her mouth. Tight, firm grip. When he steps up he wraps each finger around rusted wire, installed by Waterman & Co. circa 1978. He holds the fence like it’s the baby he’s going to produce with some haina. He can’t be down unless he holds the fence. He can’t be a man until he gets book bags full of sharp cornered books dug into the soft between his shoulder blades by his homies. In other places he would get beat down to the floor leaving him bloody meat and beggin’ strips. When he holds the fence here he is bound to let his back take the beating. When it’s over he can let go of the fence and wonder why it mattered when it didn’t really hurt at all.

We’re all going to die sometime. I am alive now, and then I will not be. You are and you will not be, too. I do not know when. I suspect the unexpectedness of it bothers us, even when we see it coming. I also know that the spirit, freed, will finally fly. Some people might feel sad about it, if they love us or care enough. They need to be. We do.

I remember the one funeral. She was two days old. The sky was ashen and I played among gravestones. My parents and hers stood over the small hole in the ground and watched as the small white casket descended into the earth. Her mother wept. Two days of life might not seem like enough to us, the long-lived. Two days. Was that not more than none? In two days it will be a Monday. Will those two days be enough? I suspect, for those afraid enough to grasp for control, it will not be. They might be afraid enough to make themselves ignore.

If the imperfect world isn’t enough then nothing will ever be. I watch the ocean as I do every week. The wind yells against the calm, the calm stands against the noise. If you don’t mind the silence of the sea, join me. Our sometime will come and I do want us to appreciate what we have now. What I have now is the letting go. What I wait to see is if it will be enough.

In my flaws I see only a past. The concept of future is always hope, while the real future is never in view. This, right now, is a moment of clarity. It is clear that happiness is a phenomenon of the present.

We’re all going to die sometime. I am alive now, and then I will not be. You are and you will not be, too. I do not know when. I suspect the unexpectedness of it bothers us, even when we see it coming. I also know that the spirit, freed, will finally fly. Some people might feel sad about it, if they love us or care enough. They need to be. We do.

I remember the one funeral. She was two days old. The sky was ashen and I played among gravestones. My parents and hers stood over the small hole in the ground and watched as the small white casket descended into the earth. Her mother wept. Two days of life might not seem like enough to us, the long-lived. Two days. Was that not more than none? In two days it will be a Monday. Will those two days be enough? I suspect, for those afraid enough to grasp for control, it will not be. They might be afraid enough to make themselves ignore.

If the imperfect world isn’t enough then nothing will ever be. I watch the ocean as I do every week. The wind yells against the calm, the calm stands against the noise. If you don’t mind the silence of the sea, join me. Our sometime will come and I do want us to appreciate what we have now. What I have now is the letting go. What I wait to see is if it will be enough.

In my flaws I see only a past. The concept of future is always hope, while the real future is never in view. This, right now, is a moment of clarity. It is clear that happiness is a phenomenon of the present.

I’ve been in need of physical contact, from everyone. We talk, we write, but we don’t touch. We don’t exist in the same physical space. This makes me want to stop talking, and stop writing, and this is not productive but it is being human.

I’ve been thinking of you.

I’ve been in need of physical contact, from everyone. We talk, we write, but we don’t touch. We don’t exist in the same physical space. This makes me want to stop talking, and stop writing, and this is not productive but it is being human.

I’ve been thinking of you.