Nothing Everywhere

Thinking about Beckett, Brandy mentioned a pair of boots. Exactly. Maybe a cajun beat, a squeeze-box, a sound I wasn't familiar with, but immediately recognized. Life is like that. Always what you don't expect. When you get to Utah turn left and stop at the natural bridges. A bridge is where an arch spans water, otherwise it's merely an arch, where wind might hollow an opening. Nothing makes any sense, really, on close examination. Sara jokes that I keep magnifying glasses everywhere, but they do little good, other than magnifying. Making letters legible is helpful but everything else is fractal. Consider the pollen swirling on Roosevelt Lake. It almost means something. A spiral that centers on the spillway. I watch the way a duck carves a V across the surface, it's interesting, the way meaning is carved, the way definition becomes water over the bridge. Homage to memories lost. Atmospheric, something you smelled but couldn't quite place. Lil Kim says it all. Servitude is the issue, perceived or otherwise. Nothing means anything, a zero you use with abandon, I understand.