WHAT WE TALK ABOUT WHEN WE TALK ABOUT WHAT WE TALK ABOUT
What is it we talk about when we talk about what we talk about? It could be love but usually isn’t. It’s seldom what we have on our minds, like a slab of iron, weighing down our true concerns. Usually it’s a knee-jerk barrage of transformed fear.
Why is it we clamor for Christs and Buddhas and one-eyed shamans to save our bacon when we invent our own salvation? Some go transcendental, some drink themselves to death, others fend off intrusions with pepper-spray delusions. Everyone jockeys for position.
The bell sounds and the gate drops and we pound around the track, hoping for a photo finish, while in the stands people not much different from ourselves make wagers they can ill afford and drink warm beer from plastic cups.