Everyday activity at this moment is hundreds of grasses brilliant in the moon. The moon an indifferent grade last night; gone behind gray cloud this morning. Birds, my black fan, the deaf cat calling, soon the RIMPAC planes. Yesterday, egrets patrolled the fresh mown lawn. They wear brown stripes down the backs of their necks, like ties. At Goodyear, one guy ignored me by staring at his screen; another jabbered on the phone. “It's a personal call,” a second colleague said. “He annoys everyone.” He was talking about work benefits, staring at his phone while his colleague and I talked about him. A woman and a man waited behind me. The supervisor's name is Scott. I walked to elementary school in the third person, composing the narrative of my life. Now the sun sharpens the green & the gray immensity of cloud as a man walks across my louvered window to the workers' shed. This was not the narrative I had in mind; it's no narrative at all. The end.
--2 July 2014
"Everyday activity": Dogen
RIMPAC: military exercises in the Pacific