The temperance advocates come knocking at my door but I haven't had a drink for days. Nor do I feel like one. Sorry to disappoint. The pentecostal proselytizers pause in the pathway. I instantly recog- nize the pairing, can see more pairs over their shoulders, say no thanks politely to them before they have a chance to open their mouths. & they, inured to rejection, offer their equally polite blessings & walk quietly away. Then the politicians, the outliers only — independents who seek to save the planet; or those far to the right, want- ing to stop immigration or gender e- quality or renewable energy sources. The mainstream parties mainly leave us alone. Impersonal. Letterbox drops & billboards. Polling booth handouts. In the early evening the cicerone comes knocking. Said: "Saw you had a lot of visitors today, thought you might like to know their antecedents. What drives them, what is behind their focus on a singular cause whether it be bigotry or hope or a need for an answer as to why the world turned out the way it has, & how it might be rearranged to match their vision of it." "Come in" I said "& get comfortabable. Will make you a coffee. Going to be a long night."
Thursday, April 02, 2026
#571 Le Cicérone (1948)
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)


No comments:
Post a Comment