Monday, February 23, 2015


This is very strange that God should want. Merriam-Webster pronounces the word “strange” for me, so I won't be. It's stranger, non-native; if there is God, he cannot be, except in not being strange. Shift pronouns—he, she—to pull down infinity but a tad. “For Gad, for country, and for Yale,” his campaign sign read. I don't remember if he won, but why should it matter? Someone sang Alice Cooper in response to her talk, but I read “sign,” as if gesture could convey such sound. Silence is many things. Is cat on his blanket this Monday morning, eyes wet, still wanting water, food. He needs to know you'll let him go, the vet says; her animals respond to English and make their own mistakes. My son's eyes are dark with refusal, but this morning he scratched the cat's head before school. Nothing's simple, it's all lease-hold. Leases come due, and we let them go.

--23 February 2015

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