what? nothing to see here

Nagasaki, August 9, 1945

trestle

a blackened train trestle                                                                                                     

                                         reached and writhed across Monterey like a tentacle of a colossal octopus 

deftly fingering something on the other side of the street that he couldnt see from below

its hard flesh and sinew quivered parallel to Pepper                              

                                                                                     and Pepper seemed happy  beside itself  to be at the trestles side and not roiled  and plucked   under its muscular grip

from where he stood he could hear the long steel rails strummed like guitar strings  shimmying like muted tines  though oddly hollow

biting oiled tie slivers didnt sparing their tongues  they were crude and harsh  as if rational thought had fled them and only vile contempt remained  they sniped at each other or anything that bothered in the least to casually pay them any attention

he wished he could see what fomented them

he hadnt any idea to work from to fire his imagination

directly above the heart of Monterey a tarnished greyed metal poster read 15 FT  7 IN 

it was affixed beneath the spans of forged steel plates and bleeding rusted rivets

just beneath its top plate  stenciled in aged yellow Caution paint  V E T O    the corrugated edges of cardboard were suggested by an overspray

to either side of  V E T O  were the scrubbed and obliterated remains of letters of words  illegible

perhaps a phrase or slogan  but he couldnt think of any that would be tapped or anchored by  V E T O  nearly smackdab at its middle

despite the fact that  V E T O  didnt need any legs to stand upon

                                                    

one could imagine a variety of propositions or laws that should have been vetoed over the tumultuous political warfaring of his  or anyones lifetime

philosophies conspiring  a breath away from war  if it werent for soiling their manicured nails  mussing their coiffured hair  fine clothing  and the very pleasant scent they wore to hide their yellow lily-liveredness

they werent the kind of men who had calluses or grimy nails  or considered sweat outside the conclave of their gyms

if they had luggage or burdens  someone else was assigned to carry or care for them


they imagined themselves brilliant lamps that lit the way  illumined the darkness and black corners   superiorly ground glass lens to focus on or to deflate or scald problems   or transfix and peer through things to their very core

Become transcendental

 

NO   they themselves were above tawdry physical violence                   

                                                                                                but they could order it

like ordering a steak medium-well(he wouldnt spoil good meat) cream for their coffee  the crust cut from their bread

they could order it

because they wouldnt see it 

           

1020-ish,  Thursday  Hiroshima Day,  6  8. 15

 0933,  Saturday,  8  8. 15