Life is long

chain me down but I am still free

Everybody says that the living is easy
I can barely see
cause my head's in the way

"Life is Long" -- David Byrne and Brian Eno

I blew up my yellow and white striped Fun Boy pool and backyard lounger this afternoon, filled it with water and lay back in the cool. It’s not too hot here actually, a glorious 74ish with bright blue skies and a good breeze, the kind of weather that makes it all worthwhile for a moment. I’d spent most of the day purging stuff and organizing things, and eating leftover North Carolina pulled pork with vinegar sauce that I missed yesterday at my friends’ annual Explosions and Meat Party because I didn’t feel like dragging Sophie out, I didn’t feel like wearing black, I didn’t feel like making a funeral casserole or laughing even though these people are my people. My social media says I read in bed. I’m not patriotic. That’s all I’ll say about that. I lay back in the cold water and stared up through the crisscrossing wires and into the sky. The silk floss tree has filled out, a green canopy, spikes running up and down the trunk. The palms wept. Tigers walk behind me, they are to remind me that I'm lost, but I'm not afraid, oh. I thought I heard a bang like cars hitting one another but maybe not because the kids who live behind me were playing and yelling and then I heard some sirens and tried to pinpoint where they were or where they were going and whether it was police or fire and that made me think of ICE, those — my mind wanders looking for the right expletive the right curse the right insult — fucking spineless thugs who’ve laid siege to our city and then a wasp buzzed over me and landed on a tiny red flower right next to me, some kind of tube-like perennial drought resistant plant whose name I’ve forgotten and honestly, the buzz was louder than the siren so I concentrated on that and closed my eyes.