Friday October 12th 2012
Big sadness in the barn, there was no Traveler,
no words of wisdom, no comfort to be drawn from the spit of the phrase
"Convenience of Direct Deposit." Yet someone lives in the
barn I know. He is sometimes yellow haired, his eyes always dark
as coal. I'd guess eons ago he was laid to rest, with tears and
perhaps flowers, and maybe they sang a song, and danced for him.
He is smaller than most, lame in his right leg from the day of his
birth, a disadvantage some thought, and on his ninetieth birthday it was
as though he had been alive forever. And I guess it's this sort of
moment that some might think real, because believing it real, has a
value which satisfy's want. More likely though the value of
believing is gained from the believing of others. And so you sit
there, change the shape of your face to earnest, crumble into a
humility, imagine no flesh on your bones as you turn the pages of your
life looking for something other's might call sincerity, or worse.
Me, I look at that and know it's the idiot side of treachery, and it's
too late. Did God really speak to you? Or is it you speaking
The mightiest Christian ever to walk this earth
was Constantine. He put the cross on the shields of his legionnaires
and Christian tribes have loved him ever since. So you can imagine my
surprise when I returned from my chores to find Constantine sitting on my
chair in the room where the television is. He was watching the Weather
Channel. "Did you really want to be baptized in the River Jordan?"
I asked him. "It was my mother's idea," he replied. "And she was tough
about fashionable things. So when I got sick I thought maybe she knew
something I didn't." "They made her a Saint," I reminded him.
He laughed, "Well, I guess they would. After all she did watch while
the slaves dug up the True Cross, all of them uncircumcised thank goodness.
And it was I who actually killed my eldest son and my second Empress. And I
have always felt strange about that because she was a loyal Empress to me.
She once saved my life. But I had had her father killed, so it was one of
those tricky things, which is why my mother decided we'd leave my second
Empress in an overheated bath. Make it look like an accident."
Then I asked him what it was like to be dead. "Dull sometimes," he
replied. And sure as eggs I hope he doesn't stay for supper.