Didn't people die every day that you did whatever it was that you did before the day that you died? All while the uncomfortable truth emerged and whispered that you made no good goddamn difference, while the others stress to burnish into new time the lie that says that even that has got to stand good for something, even if, in truth, it was good for absolutely nothing.
Sunday, December 7, 2025
Fetch Me My Goddamn Pistol
It's in the wardrobe, honey. Careful, it's loaded. Goddamn, Daddy, it's heavy,too! A pistol is a serious thing, girl. The weight is a good measure of its ability to inflict immediate and irreparable changes in people, places, and things, all depending on the hand that holds it. Never touch the metal if you can help it, honey. My uncle Billy Joe bragged on me once for handling a 357 magnum correctly. By the handle, perfectly fetched from a remote place in Deer Lodge, Tennessee. That compliment still hangs in my periphery, like a curtain. My pride is pure 'cause my Uncle Billy Joe didn't brag on people much at all. I miss him badly. I miss his amazing stash, too. Okay, time to put it up, honey. Well what you wanted me to fetch if for? I just wanted to look at it and remember the secrets it keeps silent.