I spend a lot of time hiking “trails” with my dog Georgia. I mean, we call them “trails.” Not completely overgrown. That’s a “trail.” A patch of dirt the width of a rabbit slide. That’s a “trail” too. It’s enough to know that someone went this way once before, and we’re more or less following tradition.
Five or so people walking along every hundred years. That’s a “tradition.”To steal a quote from Jesse Prado, are any of your ideas actually yours?
The Nonsense Forest is an irrational world, but it bears a strong resemblance to its rational cousin, in spite of the Matt Cook poetry collection in my bag. Put both hands on the book and squeeze. Matt’s voice comes out of a hidden speaker: Who would have thought, a strong resemblance? I would not have theorized a strong resemblance. I would not have surmised a strong resemblance.
Georgia broke her leg a few weeks ago. We’ve had to cut back on the irrational–with its many dead deer smells–in favor of more leash walking on smooth shouldered macadam. She has begun to put some weight on the bad leg but we’re a long way from steep terrain and dog skinny-dipping in the river.
Deer, if given a choice, prefer to die near water. It’s true, sometimes I like to insert scientific wisdom to take the place of clarity.
Of course, we have our own version of Marco Polo. Why wouldn’t we?
One of us covers our eyes and says, “Billy!” and the other answers, “Collins!” and plunges underwater. It’ll be at least a month before we can play Billy Collins. This game makes no sense on the rational side of the street. Once we tried it on the front porch. I covered my eyes. “Billy?” Nothing. “Billy?” I repeated. “Billy!”
Sometimes I pretend Georgia is invisible. I walk the neighborhood dragging a leash on the ground. Strangers say the strangest things. Why are you dragging a rope on the ground? one asked. “That’s my dog, Georgia. She’s invisible.”
Squeezing a book doesn’t work for everyone, and it doesn’t work for every book. It’s not a hug really. You want to get your thumbs involved. Think, bicycle handlebars super small. Try pedaling. Or pedaling backwards.
Recently I read an interview. Steph Post was asking about everyday horrors and the subject responded, “Everyday?”
For some reason it stuck with me.