The Caesura

A thoughtful fabrication. Thinking about the Wrack Show: slightly careless in broad ways but highly refined in some particulars. B called this morning and wanted me on board for flying the roof on his addition, yes, of course, and I'll be the ground guy, the sawyer, the passer-up-of-plywood person. Hot bright day, tee-shirts soaked and sweat rolling into eyes, sawdust stuck to every exposed body part. I remember this, I used to do it, when I was younger, and nothing weighted so much. That's an odd phrase that sounds like it means something else, "and everything was lighter" might be closer to the money. Sleeveless tee, so my shoulders are sun-burned, when I get home I rub them with raspberry vinegar, if I have a choice of what to smell, you know, I go with the best option, I was afraid if I rubbed them with balsamic I'd eat myself. I have no idea why vinegar works, in this situation, or, even, really, if it does, I do it because it's a thing I learned and it seems to help. Placebo? I don't know. I do remember sex with Olinda, on the beach at Ponte Vedra, she was a red-head and we were using sun-screen, but I had brought a bottle of apple-cider vinegar because I knew she would burn, had doused her liberally, and when we fucked later, in the dunes, it was all about apples, despite the sand. I have to pass this along, Glenn said:

First: Three...

Then: ...

Then: .

Then:

he got it in one, how rare is that? There was a bird on Madagascar that weighed over a thousand pounds, it couldn't fly, short stubby wings and the bones weren't hollow, simply filling a slot, a "predator" but by name only, probably a Roc.