Today the weather just turned. There was no beauty in the rain, no music in its falling, just a cold, dark rain. It was like that moment in the debate she said about his time in Mexico “he choked,” and the whole tone shifted, the rain came down harder, the drops indistinct, the rush and static of fire sucked the air right out of us, and everyone went up in flames. All night long it beat down like that and blew: it choked the gutters, gathered in pools, it left us feeling damp, made the ground look beaten down.
Still I walked to the lake with a broken rib in my umbrella and the water rose to swallow the shores, it came up over the rocks and rushed from the spouts like a vein, the way it bubbled out.
Still I walked, pants dripping wet, so I could try to get it out, this feeling. Anyone who knows anything about spots knows there’s only so much you can do to remove them, the stain leaves a shadow. No one knows how it got there and now it’s like the whole world can see, it’s right there staring at us on the dining room rug.
Image borrowed from the Tarot, the nine of Swords.
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Categories: musings
Bill Pearse 
Reblogged this on Matthews' Blog and commented:
What a picturesque prose!
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Thanks my friend! Bill
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It insinuates everything these days, eh? I sit on the library board, 3/7 Canadian, 4/7 American. We had a meeting Wednesday. Of course it came up. The Canadians discuss it with detached horror. The Americans with anxious horror. Either way: horror.
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Huge, rigged, rugged, ragged, horror. Shit on the dining room carpet, huge.
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I watched the entire debate. It left me with a palpable depression that stuck with me for the next two days. It’s so ugly and deliberate. I say deliberate because as a writer and artist I can just see the maker’s touch, be it God, the Dark Lord, or maybe just the collective unconscious morphic field(see Sheldrake). Like it’s too surreal, too poignant, to be “real life”. I think that article you posted got me thinking, and I tried to squirm out of the depression. Tried telling myself mb Hillary is not that bad. So I went and did a little “fact-checking” on the accusations against her, concerning her and The Clinton Foundations work in Haiti. Man, its bad. And I know Trump’s just as bad too. Last night, just surrendering to it all. I watched clips of that Catholic roast for charity at the Waldrof Astoria (research the history of that fucking place!), and they are both there yucking it up together. And being raised Catholic, and knowing how sleazy they all are, and the “Old Boys Club” feel, it just screams like Rosemary’s Baby, or The Shining. Clinton had transitioned from the ironic White Mao of debate night to an ironic pink Mao suit. She just sits there and laugh and laughs as Trump just piled on accusation after accusation. They were all getting off on it. Getting off on the scandal being but out there like that. I realized that’s it. I was done before, but I think I’m done in never going to make this a focus in my reality again. But then here I am. You can’t escape it, and this story continues on either way.
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Yes, the last scene in Rosemary’s Baby or that horror film with Donald Sutherland where everyone’s possessed by that plant creature and they all point and scream to expose someone, that will leave you feeling good on a Friday.
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Donald Sutherland! Mephistopheles in Animal House. I been doing this thing, where I change my desktop to whatever planet the day is associated with. Venus is Friday. Venus is known as Earth’s evil twin. It shares some similarities in gravity and size, but is completely inhospitable. A “shut-off” planet. So all this might be apropos of Friday itself. Got a nasty batch of existential funk going here! Sorry for getting some on you. Let’s recapture the day friend.
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Yes, put on the Dead. Bring out yr dead!
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Well done. Taking the easy way out, I describe this election as the inevitable crash the rubber-neckers can’t avoid slowing down to looky-loo at — without realizing there is a mack truck bearing down on them as they slow to goggle the wreckage. Your artistic description is much more effective.
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No, I agree with the rubbernecker image, I’ve thought that myself. Just such an embarrassment. Let’s hope that’s the worst it really is (an embarrassment), and get on with it. Hopefully learn something from it and change, we’ll see. Hardee, har har: LEARN SOMETHING. Change!
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Change? Yeah, I fear this election has fundamentally changed the tenor of our elections. And not in a good way.
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Looking forward to that Fleetwood Mac song, Landslide.
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And on the other side of the Atlantic we are looking on aghast – Brexit at our backs and the choice of two evils to the fore. And wondering how things might have been with Bernie Sanders.
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Lots to wonder. Wonder’s a good word for it. Though not wonderful.
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“The stain leaves a shawdow” -WOW! Fantastic imagery!!!
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Ha, thank you! I’m glad you liked that my friend, thanks! Bill
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ooh, good one, bill –
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Thanks Beth! Got to love these walks to the lake.
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Yes, it’s definitely a hard rain that’s gonna fall. Maybe Dylan was prophetic.
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Buckets!
Idiot Wind!
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Today was super busy at work and that was good, a forced break from looking at the same ugliness. Life gave a break when I needed it. In middle school I got a deck of tarot cards with that same art and I remember that card wasn’t good to get, though there’s some interpretation about overcoming, pulling out of suffering. Nothing profound, just a hard rain that will end. And I liked the line about the broken rib on the umbrella. Hope the weather breaks!
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Hey, glad you had a good break from it all via work. I’m enjoying the same, working again but mainly from home and a good pace. I love the art on that deck; this card is “balls.” Though you’re right, like many of them there’s a positive spin you can interpret, also if inverted I think. A lot like life and the symbols we’re surrounded by, how you choose to see it and put it all together as a story. Bill
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Might be time to pull up the carpet and send it to the dump. Just two weeks until I can go back to complaining about politics in a more general sense.
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I thought about that, the underlayment. Rotted and falling apart.
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