let's start with the weather.
everyone else does. in the future, weather might
be a memory as we huddle in underground bunkers,
color of the sky a whispered rumor. perhaps that
sounds melodramatic, but that's the way we roll
here in the pacific northwest, lost in
imagination, looking to the mountains, snowcaps
crisp as cut paper. // i went to lowe's again, an
almost daily experience, shopping cart crammed in
unlikely fashion, hardiebacker
jammed in vertical and tile trim jutting aft. my
cashier's nametag said SKYLAR and i told how i
preferred today's clear
to the usual tepid rain. he felt
the same, still not used to it after moving here
from california. "when was that?" "12 years ago.
been here more than half my life but it only gets
harder to take." i heard that. the sunlack is
cumulative, turns good people into fungus. // but!
i had a job to do and my first cut almost blinded
struck hard just below my eye. i
blinked twice, lucky guy. that's just how it
goes--the purpose of work is to kill you, whether
fast or slow. oh well, i keep my head down, one
small step after another, listening to horrors
of a bygone age
to make me feel better, no
closer to completion than when i started.