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i was recalling today, the man with the kittens. a trip to sears on the ghetto side of salt lake which actually only entails that half of it is not owned by the mormon mafia and that you may see less white bread per square foot. i was looking for new sheets. i found a quiet man sitting near enough to the door to gaze at me, call my attention, motion slightly. i thought he wanted money, i tried to ignore, to pass up -

i used to feel compassion for the panhandlers, now i just feel betrayed imagining my 78 cents lining the driveway of their new suburban houses...writing books about how much they made off of poor compassionate saps like me that summer they couldn't find work.

the myths we construct to justify our sloth.

and in the midst of my flying thoughts i saw. white paper skin and veins and bone and pink frilled blouse and white pleated eyelet skirt and blue socks and flats and his face. his gentle wretched face and his long white hair and his whisped mustache and the smeared lipstick.

he held a kitten in his lap. had given all the rest away that day, was hoping we might take the last. and i was swept up in speaking cordially, mechanically, while the thoughts screamed in my head while i envisioned turning myself into shield, protecting this man from the five hundred forces of evil dressed in goodness that might harm him.

this embodiment of our bone marrow fears of sex, of woman, of death. this confusion of a bag of flesh, this fragile, evil thing offering me the embodiment of innocence.

and jeremy's eyes puffed up from the dander and i saw no reason more to stay and when i left with my sheets she'd stepped away from the sidewalk and into my mind, where the other unspeakables stay, where i protect them from the judging eyes, where no one laughs or stares or even makes mental note of the ways we cope with our tragedies with ourselves with our souls.

that wedding dress is still burning in my heart and i sit near and i watch and sometimes i can still smell the singe of my hair. some day i will figure out how to bottle condescension. and i will throw it in with.

1:18 a.m. - 2004-09-22
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