a bunny day

Easter. A good day to hang. It's cold and wet and pretty much miserable enough outside to match my mood inside. Poised here on the brink, time to gird my loins again so to speak for combat in the early morning mist of Monday. Back to the mill house of pointless endeavour we call working for a living. It aint fun this constant push-pull making money to pay the government so they can waste it blowing up deserts somewhere killing things that never met me coming or going. The fucking bastards. Quit complaining already.

They let those British sailors go home. Ha ha just kidding we weren't going to hurt you just you know teach your boss a lesson about diplomacy yeah that's all. No big deal. Go home, kiss the baby hug your mother. All is forgiven. Meanwhile, dark steel hulls of instant death gather in the shallows locking in co-ordinates for their little birdies to fly to just in you know, case they try that shit again, we'll just blow 'em the hell up. Yep. And so it goes. The thuggery continues unabated while God snoozes somewhere and the lost Easter eggs rot in the rain. The priests and rabbis are working overtime expressing their brand of calmness. What do we need to do? Forgive ourselves and move on? Why yes indeed. If you love yourself then everything else sort of falls into place. Right? I guess. Whatever. Quit complaining already.

I went to see my father the other day. He's still reclining there on his back looking up past the sky dreaming. Says he's doing alright considering. I picked up the litter around him deposited by the other less than considerate breezes among us. The grass is of course in it's seasonal brown cloak but the riding mower's tracks indicate that somebody is at least getting paid to watch over it. I couldn't stay long and told him so. Thought about my mother. How she had become quite the pill now forgetting everything. How she longed to join him but I think he preferred to remain alone. No nagging that way. No more screaming suicidal threats or promises to move in under the Congress Ave. bridge just out of spite. She's mostly passive now I thought mostly over burdened.

Plenty of basking time with forever without interruption now boy. I think my father is bored though. He repeats himself. We had this conversation before and he understood my haste to leave. There was living to be done elsewhere and now see where it gets you. Besides I have to piss. Bye daddy...so long member of The Greatest Generation. Until the next time old man. ta...

So the day drags on. CNN spewing it's informational bile in a crawl across the room. Laundry appearing in piles to be folded and put away. Dinner defrosting on the counter. Shades of gray with a hint of green staring back at me through the windows hybrid Afro-Celtic music drifting in-between. Typical Sunday options however limited. Quit complaining already.

I look forward to a sunny day.