War Stories

Pretty sure the damage isn't serious but my shoulder hurts. The book situation approaches critical, piles are ready to topple. The moon, waning. Took the truck down to the ford, back and forth through the water to clean the undercarriage. Mud accumulates in the wheel wells and makes steering awkward. A noise outside I have to address, clearly an animal, I need to pee anyway, another rabid coon working the compost pile. I kill it with a single blow of the shovel. Red eyes in the flashlight beam look like lasers. I don't want to kill it, but I do, because I go outside in the dark often, to look at the moon, to pee, to watch an approaching storm, and one thing I don't need is a rabid coon latched onto my leg. Coming back inside, I need a drink and a smoke, the rush has wakened me completely. I turn on the radio for company and there's a pure voice, no vibrato, slightly British, probably Australian, and she's really good, I don't catch her name but I'd recognize it if I ever heard it again. Life is that way, something heard but not identified, a mystery. What you don't know greatly exceeds what you know. Fuck inspiration, mostly it's just work, turning the compost pile, digging a post hole; unless you're Mr. Hefner, you just have to get out of bed. The next thing. Never trust anyone who doesn't have something to do. I mean that, I don't trust anyone who doesn't have time for me. Almost everything is bullshit. What we base our life on, mostly ephemeral crap. At the heart of it, is that it's difficult to believe anything. I can look closely, my salvation, at a leaf emerging, and forget everything else. The Greater Question is put at bay, because these beautiful miniature flowers exist. It might be that I'm merely distracted. I don't think so, but you never know. The connection between you and me. Is it a real thing? Amazing grace. Or just another fractal. I believe this: I'm a janitor and I mop. I use a Gearpres Floor Prince and a heavy mop-head. I'm serious about this. Listen, I can't say I miss you when you're gone.