black and blue
would be his immediate
endgame
no
twisting in the wind
ugly
fierce reprisal
leaving
no room for equivocation(because everything is)
prior
when the young man crossed the
street in the neighborhood to interrupt him
excusing himself and then offered
a virtually unexpected apology forthright for offending him obviously provoking him by flying a Confederate flag from the bed of
his pickup
then
he
was astonished and moved by the young mans apology
it seemed to him most people unfortunately of all stripes came down to lack the stones to reverse and
correct themselves and apologise when
either they were wrong or had wronged someone
everyone so keen
to double down
as if doubling down was manly or virile or could possibly inspire more
respect
bizarre
seemingly a full-blown adult
hasnt the moxie to apologise admit they
were wrong say they misspoke
if there was anything in this
world that is imperfect it is the erect
two-legged animal Man
he accepted the young mans
apology
frankly thinking back over it he was almost eager for the apology eager to take the young mans hand firmly in
his
like finding a lost talisman and then refusing to risk losing it
again or misplace it
taking his hand the working of it through his mind the honor his hand meant to him when he gave it akin to when he gave his word . . .
then
disheartening
bullshit
its
vulgar dishonor blatant dishonesty
theirs wasnt the oldest town in
the state
founded when public buildings
were built with handsawn timber metals
tortured at a local foundry and hammered by soot-blackened smithies their stone frieze facing out in the four primary compass
directions inscribed with empowering mottoes
of civic pride devotion and common decency
quarried and finished and pulled to site on buckboard wagons at the behinds
of stubborn drafthorses and oxen
their city hall stood at the east
end of a broad mall the grammar school
across the street from it up on the westside was the high school the buildings between two broad avenues
the high school was severed from the campus in
the 50s by the interstate
that planning and execution allowed
the city hall to retain the greatest part of the mall whose one
hundred year old trees shadowed the parallel avenues and the serpentine public walks
that wound the manicured lawns and eventually lead to the huge carved marble
fountain that dominates the heart of the grounds
granted thats the
way he perceived it
his perception and backdrop to the defamation the young man calls his
heritage
who parked his truck on the mall unfurled the flag letting it flutter in the crossbreeze
this wasnt the South
he wasnt stupid
he understood how cancer metastasizes
through a communal body
and his antivenom as was the provocateurs is drawn from the same vial of First
Amendment rights
unfortunately
not the black and blue he
held straining at the chokecollar wrapped around its throat
percolating
just beneath his skin
Truth*
it
reminded him: all my enemies are
turning into my teachers
he was learning to stay his hand
and
turn his tongue into a lash unsatisfied until its split skin and tasted blood
1646, Friday,
24 7. 15
1612, Saturday,
25 7. 15
*https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5O49Wwsbgdw
