it was the best of times it was the worst of times it was any time that times were needed it was infinity wrapped up in a hamsterball it was every vector direction and scalar quantity and it was all in a spherical 3-dimensional sort of container which bore no boundary whatsoever
here i was in the middle of it all, in medias res. black and white are before and after me and i disregard them because they are the truth and do i despise this? and do i have the right to? and nonetheless i do. i am the greying or graying one and the streets around me obey, because i refuse to believe they do not
it is summer
the clouds are grey or gray and it is summer and the sun is burning down (the sun is grey or gray) and i meet the children with a smile. i prefer them because they do not know they are correct but simply know they are correct. the priest calls this faith but the priest does not believe what he preaches, of course, or how could he call it faith? he would call it truth if he knew. children know because we pretend to. i know and perhaps that makes me a child.
(i would rather be a child, because children do not die. any child knows this.)
it is fall
it is never fall, and of course it is summer. the mail is in the mailbox and i am at the mailbox and the mail is here and the mail is inside and the mailbox is empty and i open the mailbox and i close the mailbox and i open the mail and i close the mail and there is a letter inside which i do not believe. i cannot believe letters these days,
i know i have never believed in letters.
i am a future contact, it is summer, many times have gone by and many times are over and rain sleet snow or hail still the only constant’s mail, but with all this mail bogged down in summer weather, all this mail just sitting around, and the summer is oppressive
(the summer is only beautiful, it is always the summer)
and i love the summer
five months and still the letters are in the mailbox still the letters are on my desk and still the mail is open and the mailbox is open and i have not emptied the trash all because
of the heat outside
what a beautiful
summer
and
