conversation drifts

Conversation drifts upwards.
“We need to write something that is playful and fun. I cannot think to do anything else. It would be a shame to use my talents as a shady humorist, but if I must fade into the background once a stone marks my place, it shall be. To live and enjoy life is my task.”
It drifts to the ceiling.
“…Once there was this moocow and it was a very good moocow.”
Where it mingles,
“Or maybe it was not. Reject modernism. Turn on your fathers, and return to the ways of their own fathers. Reject Christ, the postmodern condition. Become the Jews of Zion, warble around Malta, or Venice, the beautiful old world cities built upon the rubble of the old lands, the old ways, and the marble and the friezes and the classical busts staring at you from their cold stone eyes. They’re dead, and we are all dead, just waiting for the inevitable end that will enshroud us all.”
and becomes noise.
“I swear to God, she had to weigh over two hundred pounds. I know, I know, she carried it well, but there is some innate fear of being with someone that big.”
There is a chattering
“I am not going to live my life in fear. There is a war on, you know. There isn’t any thing that is going to stop it. We all know, there’s always some sort of war. There is no golden age of civilization, there is just cycling.”
amongst people where the words
“…and I really think she gave me herpes. I’ve never had anything like this before, but as I understand, she’s been around. You know her, I think. She works at the coffee shop down the street from where I live. Why are you smiling?”
we say drift out the door
“I should be going home. I can’t drink too much tonight and I’m running short on cheddar. Maybe we can raise hell some other time, when I’m more available.”
with the cigarette smoke
“She wears so much makeup that she goes around looking like a whore. I tell you, its not attractive. There is no way that she looks in the mirror before she goes out. If she does, she needs to see an eye doctor.”
as we stumble into
“There’s no way the Red Sox can lose this season. The Yankees have nobody. They’ve lost that attitude of certain victory that used to surround them. The aura is dulled their flaws have been exploited. They are no longer God like. They’ve been humanized for god’s sake, and humans die”
this early morning.