Well, the Lost Document…

<!– wp:paragraph –>

<p></p>

<!– /wp:paragraph –>

<!– wp:paragraph –>

<p>One thing I can tell you: I lost my work.  500 plus words… all gone.  I even found a nice sketch of a beer bottle… it complimented the work.  I was writing about wanting a beer!  And, yes, there are those moments of weakness Ihave when I WANT a damn beer!  It is a guy thing.  My father, on the other hand, can have a couple of beers with a meal, and he is done.  </p>

<!– /wp:paragraph –>

<!– wp:paragraph –>

<p>That is NOT my case!  I will drink a CASE of beer before I say I am done.  And then I will continue with cheap vodka & the progression of alcoholism will grasp its disgusting fucking fingers on me.  & I will be in an emergency room, screaming my sick head off, and wondering where & how I got to where I am.  All the confusion… all the pain… all of ALL OF IT breaking any & all good things I have been working towards.</p>

<!– /wp:paragraph –>

<!– wp:paragraph –>

<p>But, trust me, Dear Reader, I picked out a good poem to start a good & long piece of prose…. with a good illustration to boot: it complimented the damn work!</p>

<!– /wp:paragraph –>

<!– wp:paragraph –>

<p>It really did!</p>

<!– /wp:paragraph –>

<!– wp:paragraph –>

<p>Now: back to the world:</p>

<!– /wp:paragraph –>

<!– wp:paragraph –>

<p>I did the feeding early today.</p>

<!– /wp:paragraph –>

<!– wp:paragraph –>

<p>And I did it alone.</p>

<!– /wp:paragraph –>

<!– wp:paragraph –>

<!– /wp:paragraph –>

<!– wp:paragraph –>

<p>Like I mention: I did it alone, this morning.</p>

<!– /wp:paragraph –>

<!– wp:paragraph –>

<p>That meant a great deal to me!</p>

<!– /wp:paragraph –>

<!– wp:paragraph –>

<p>I drove the Side-By-Side down to the fields, loaded up the feed buckets, talked to the animals, and thought about my Nieces.</p>

<!– /wp:paragraph –>

<!– wp:paragraph –>

<p>My sister & I have been talking a great deal to one another, and I thought about her children… about My son… about My Lady’s nephew…</p>

<!– /wp:paragraph –>

<!– wp:paragraph –>

<p>Children are the fingers of God, grasping the World….</p>

<!– /wp:paragraph –>

<!– wp:paragraph –>

<p>Me?</p>

<!– /wp:paragraph –>

<!– wp:paragraph –>

<p>Shit.</p>

<!– /wp:paragraph –>

<!– wp:paragraph –>

<p>I am just an alcoholic writer… trying to piece together some kind of prose to you, The Reader.</p>

<!– /wp:paragraph –>

<!– wp:paragraph –>

<p>But, please, Dear Reader, do not forget about The Kids.</p>

<!– /wp:paragraph –>

<!– wp:paragraph –>

<p>If someone with MY kind of past can recognize the Wonder of Children while feeding pigs… pigs being PIGS screaming & squealing while putting their faces in the trough… can’t we all?</p>

<!– /wp:paragraph –>

<!– wp:paragraph –>

<p>I know the answer to that question…</p>

<!– /wp:paragraph –>

<!– wp:paragraph –>

<p>And I know I will be answering my own questions in these columns.</p>

<!– /wp:paragraph –>

<!– wp:paragraph –>

<p>That may be the point of the, Dear Reader.</p>

<!– /wp:paragraph –>

<!– wp:paragraph –>

<p>But let us take the trip together…</p>

<!– /wp:paragraph –>

<!– wp:paragraph –>

<p>I know there will be more thoughts about the pigs… the kids… the goats… My Lady & the futures of all of everything…</p>

<!– /wp:paragraph –>

<!– wp:paragraph –>

<p>Like I have written: This Is What I Do.</p>

<!– /wp:paragraph –>

<!– wp:paragraph –>

<p>Who I Am!</p>

<!– /wp:paragraph –>

Advertisement

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s