Saturday, May 06, 2006

No Backsliding

Let your backbone slide, so the song goes, but I'm not about to cover up my newfound freedom with nostalgic groping after the past--not while I still have a desire for the Lord's rest, and a talent for stringing together lines of nonsense.

The year's first crop of dandelions were hovering their translucent geodesic seed above the green ocean of lawn, and gossamer spider-spun filaments laced the pasture like a delicate network of tightropes tread only by the weightless footsteps of sunlight. The trees had revived from winter slumber. The fortunate north eastern breeze was clear of noticeable industrial discharge.

I was so weary and so free, as if born forth in the original cradle of creation, much like my housemate's son who was nestled in a newly acquired, fancy stroller with oversized, smooth-rolling wheels. Was it I who walked down that familiar street, as if for the first time, past the soybean factory with its gaseous expectorations, past the empty harbour where great, steel cargo ships are wont to dock, a thousand tiny seagulls dusting its furthest reach? It was I, unchanged, created by a moment for a moment, to be simply myself. It was I, restored to my wanderings, delivered from the illusion of persistence that conceals Perpetual Wandering.

The frequency of shadow mixed with the frequency of sidewalk as I threw expectation out the window; as I embraced transience; embraced duration; embraced the prison cell of vocation, the decadence of calling. The diurnal rhythm of work and sleep bore me aloft on a tide of unemployment that I rode all the way to the beer store, where I made a fool of myself in a non-moment of extravagance, and, wrapping a can of pilsner in the folds of a white plastic bag, threw it in the stroller's carry-all to drink later, once the kitchen radio had eaten the dirty dishes.


jin said...

I Love seagulls...
they shoot them here during the summer,
at the marina,
the police, the city,
because they crap on rich jerks yachts.

I say,
"If they're rich enough
to have a yacht
they can pay someone
to wash the damn thing!"

flatlander said...

Amen to that!

Don't buy the sloop
if you can't take the poop

jin said...

Can I use that on a protest sign?

Thanks for a post
on a Saturday nite
no one else does
it's not right!

How was your pilsner,
better than my tea?
Did that yoga
help your knee?

flatlander said...

Thanks for dropping by!
Feel free to use the rhyme
Down by the docks
On your protest sign

You reminded me that I had to update the back-up
Of all the archives that just seemed to fill up
Days turn to months turn to over a year
As I'm typing away to the atmosphere

I'm only at September last
So if the blogger computer does crash
Much will be lost I can't replace
But nothing will change my original face

I haven't even got around to drinking that beer
Saturday night is quiet around here
My housemate's son is sleeping, and where did she go?
Listening to blues on the radio

I'm all alone and it's rather nice
Time to do the dishes, put my knee on ice
And tomorrow after church, if all goes well
I'll ride my skateboard straight to hell!

Metapirate said...

Bring us back some McRibwiches. That's the on'y place ye can buy them these days. Arrrr...

jin said...

I'm paranoid about
losing my stuff
I print EVERYTHING out
Sometimes it's rough
If my pc goes
I've nothing saved
all the nice comments
my blogfans raved.

You're the smart one
I see your mac
blogging on Saturday night
instead of sleepin in the sack
you brain gets exercise
your knee gets a rest
& ME I'm here
your virtual guest!

Your writing is FAB!
I laugh out loud
you really must be
so very proud.
I'm so glad I found you
don't even know how
all that typing &
not a bead of sweat on your brow!

Anonymous said...

Once again you have let me take a walk with you. It was glorious - especially the spiders' webs.

flatlander said...

You can set up your blog to send all comments to an e-mail account. Go to Settings: comments: comment notification address, and add your e-mail.

I had over 800 comments saved in a hotmail account, but then I didn't sign in for over a month, and they were all lost. But they are still on the blog, and I have begun the task of preserving all the marvellous Fakiegrind commentary in a back-up file & hard copy.

It is my sacred pledge that your deeply appreciated comments will not be lost from the record.