I used to have a big house, with plenty of storage. When it collapsed, and had to be removed, the asbestos people were called first. Nobody knew we lived under asbestos; nobody suspected that mold and invisible particles were easily ingested with every bowl of yogurt and berries I served.
I won't bother with other difficulties found among the debris.
I can't quite understand this complex world.
This boat I sit in, can sway gently, or suddenly capsize with an errant wave.
My ignorance covers the camel's back.
My knowledge, the last feather that can spook the poor camel.
Houses come and go.
So do gardens.
And commodities.
And heroes too.
I used to trust books, and TV actors when they pitched insurance plans, and my neighbor who sold me my house in the first place, the same house built on fill that collapsed on MLK's birthday of January 1994, at four in the morning, temperatures in the low forties, unusually cold for sunny California.
There must be a trick to this living that my parents didn't know about; and my teachers; and all the books I read; all the people I consulted. There must be a trick!
Maybe I need to change my brand of yogurt.
I won't bother with other difficulties found among the debris.
I can't quite understand this complex world.
This boat I sit in, can sway gently, or suddenly capsize with an errant wave.
My ignorance covers the camel's back.
My knowledge, the last feather that can spook the poor camel.
Houses come and go.
So do gardens.
And commodities.
And heroes too.
I used to trust books, and TV actors when they pitched insurance plans, and my neighbor who sold me my house in the first place, the same house built on fill that collapsed on MLK's birthday of January 1994, at four in the morning, temperatures in the low forties, unusually cold for sunny California.
There must be a trick to this living that my parents didn't know about; and my teachers; and all the books I read; all the people I consulted. There must be a trick!
Maybe I need to change my brand of yogurt.
