The Bathroom Door's Revenge /12
Others have spoken of river's
timeless flow, of waterfalls
pounding the center of the
Earth to sand, or the glory of a
thunderstorm after it has reduced
the wash job on the their favorite car
to mud.
But I must marvel instead
at PISS; passing through on
the way from liver back to a
sterile and salty past, or washing
up a bar from Gall to test
the organisms most sensitive nerve
as it lays in wait for its opposite
to turn out of,
Cascading through regularity
over the spillway of what is enough
of what we had thought would
be ours for the taking.
Does the thunderstorm surprise? Does
the heaving tumble of Niagara in
any way remind man of his honeymoon
with the diaper? Does the River
never sleep?
But piss is more of a
response than a question, like
some nervous passing to a slower
pulse, reminding us to
liquidate the urge and to pour
ourselves daily with feeling.
And what of that life and death
struggle between man's two best
friends: the dog and the car tire?
12.
That photo is the old outhouse at Jumpoff Lookout, perched on the east end of Divide Ridge. It's now gone, the product of numerous winters and harsh winds. I just got a note today that the Forest Service has as new, blank lookout register that I'm going to install this summer, after the road opens up a bit. I suppose the old register will end up at the Ranger Station? Surprising that it's. now filled with the names of visitors.
ReplyDeleteParts of the old lookout remain or hide, as opportunity reminds us. The old Jumpoff sign is apparently stored in some warehouse at one of the Work centers but I'm hoping to make a new one to install up there with the "elevation 5745 feet" note. I also made a new, historically accurate insulated stool for Jumpoff, but if I take it up it will probably disappear, so until we get a program there, it will remain in my studio. If you want to see it I'll add it to my fb page or my old blog or somewhere/ mh