Everest

I know it's long, but read through it. You'll spend two minutes and you'll see why I put it up today. Sometimes we need to work a little to understand a new way of looking around ourselves.

It's the line, "after she left, everything I did was like wading through hip-deep water," that makes me feel.

Hope you all have a good day.


Story
by Spencer Short

Lloyd shotts pool like he's standing
in a puddle being prodded with live wires.
All spasms & twitches. In Geneva, no,
in a movie, in sepia tones & subtitles,
a man & woman in Geneva share
a small glass of pear brandy.
Someone else has lost her dog.
And here, where the red lights are
cast down like eyes, demurely,
like a face blushing,
Laughing Boy is chuckling to himself
in the corner or staring at the jukebox,
a tiny web of saliva in his beard.
There are intimate questions
assailing the world like tiny pebbles
of hail. Someone whispers I love you
in a dark room but he might as well
be shouting More light! in 19th-
century Weimar or asking
his cabby where the ducks in the park
go in winter. One moment X
is standing there in a grey scarf,
backlit by the window,
the next she's in Colorado dyeing
t-shirts at minimum wage.
What I'm trying to say is, after
she left, everything I did was like
wading through hip-deep water,
learning to love everyone & no one
in particular. Things change so quickly.
For instance: you are walking to work.
The sun seems unusually bright
off of the tall office windows.
You are wearing a thick wool sweater
& the cold stings your ears, wraps its
hands around your neck. Later, sitting
at your desk, you look up, it's mid-afternoon,
you're sweating. Outside, the sound of
a landscaper's shovel could be the first bite
into a good apple. And then it's spring.
But this is not spring. The entire town smells
like dog food. The day seems so sad.
It can't even heft its own weight.
There's work to do today, it says, but why?