In the car, the phone keeps ringing and it's your staff all saying they don't know if they can make it in, and you can't see shit really because those wiper blades you should have changed six months ago are nothing but ice clubs dragging infuriatingly across the smear of your windshield. They predicted another four to eight inches today with the real accumulation not coming until tomorrow, but that's propaganda because you know you shoveled more than that before the morning commute even started. The kids have a half day of school for some reason, probably dictated by union politics rather than public safety, and your ten year old knows that this is insane as he dutifully places his life in my angry driver's hands with three inches of snow melting off my frustrated middle manager's head. I'm getting old, I think, and worn out by the tiresomeness of so many things. The snow is falling, and we are never prepared, always caught up short in the midst of these legions who completely lose their senses and turn out on the roads to do ridiculous and dangerous things at five miles per hour while I'm trying to get somewhere. It's not about you, mocks the red cardinal flying overhead - so vivid - the red bird, the ultra-brite snow, this crushing pain radiating across my chest and down my arm.Tuesday, February 1, 2011
Communion
In the car, the phone keeps ringing and it's your staff all saying they don't know if they can make it in, and you can't see shit really because those wiper blades you should have changed six months ago are nothing but ice clubs dragging infuriatingly across the smear of your windshield. They predicted another four to eight inches today with the real accumulation not coming until tomorrow, but that's propaganda because you know you shoveled more than that before the morning commute even started. The kids have a half day of school for some reason, probably dictated by union politics rather than public safety, and your ten year old knows that this is insane as he dutifully places his life in my angry driver's hands with three inches of snow melting off my frustrated middle manager's head. I'm getting old, I think, and worn out by the tiresomeness of so many things. The snow is falling, and we are never prepared, always caught up short in the midst of these legions who completely lose their senses and turn out on the roads to do ridiculous and dangerous things at five miles per hour while I'm trying to get somewhere. It's not about you, mocks the red cardinal flying overhead - so vivid - the red bird, the ultra-brite snow, this crushing pain radiating across my chest and down my arm.
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During my childhood we had the same story in my country and hometown, long freezing winters with continuously heavy snow falling and people and civil services always busy for shoveling, but now I can understand how “climate change” is working with my country, always drought, not enough raining and then always water shortage risk, and not crazy snowy winters as it was back to that time, specially in my hometown on northwest, nowadays not enough snow even for making a small snowman, people look happy as they can go straight less problematic with their daily life, not too much trouble with ice and snow covered roads and roofs, and less time they spend for shoveling , but still the kids get happy every time it is announced off schools in stormy and snowy days and they enjoy staying at homes,
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