the “here take this”
It’s a gallant pose really, an offering made on one knee. But at the same time its a proposition not left worrying about a reply, one given without even an expectation of response. Nothing calculated or insincere- it’s strikes me that I’ve found it at last, the fabled ‘good deed’. The real deal! A bona fide article of unsolicited Rightness- and less than a foot away! I look on patiently, voyeuristically, soaking up all the warmth and meaning you can get from close contact with the Good. Upon close inspection it seems uglier… But then again what did I …I’m not sure I even thought…but there’s a perfect geometrical composition to their relationship and its clear that any realignment- even the slightest intervention- would misalign it, would send the whole scene careering off into murky depths of depravity. So I keep the requisite distance, unwilling (or unprepared) to infringe too closely upon something so magnificent. Feeling the fragility of moments such as these leads you to try and sustain them, to tighten the thin veil that separates them from reality. Above the sky bears in low and brooding, with great battleship clouds assembling in its every quarter. The afternoon acquires a pervasive unease, a sense of immanent danger. The rain is dampening my hair but I’m transfixed. Gutters are spewing, window’s are rattled, the lines and lines of washing hung out in the estates are wrenched and wrought in bedraggled postures, the interiors of office blocks, schools and libraries oscillate in great moans as they’re coiled by the repeated gusts of wind, on buses the work-weary nap and press their foreheads to the windows and all around us peoples cheeks flap backwards, with their hats pressed hard to their skulls, their umbrella’s jousting ahead of them and their faces of stoic resistance: fighting the elements to return to their homes….but these two are hermeneutically sealed- entirely detached from the environment. They project out onto the world an impression of complete co-dependency- just an unashamed need for each other so enshrined that if one had the daring to turn away the other would collapse. Which isn’t to say they love or even like each other (it’s way beyond that). Their need shows the faintly resentful nature of every true kind of dependence. Which is the mutual dissatisfaction that comes from knowing you are trapped in the confines of the ‘for better or worse’, left in the poorer end of the spectrum. Each looks at the other in affectionate derision. A man, his dog and their shared bucket of fried chicken. Slowly- agonizingly slowly for the salivating fat Rottweiler at his knees, the skinny bearded man scavenges around in the festering KFC bucket, filled with its glistening crustaceans. Then he finally takes a piece out, first tears off some meat from the carcass for himself before offering the remains down to the dog (who never declines). After every fresh slab is devoured and its bone gnawed away with precision skill, both man and dog begin cleaning their fingers and paws before moving on to the next piece. The gentle lapping of tongues overlaps with their occasional moans of pleasure and the coarse scrape of incisor against cartilage. There’s never any delay in offering the chicken nor any satisfaction seemingly gained from doing so- just mans dutiful deferment to the beast perched at his feet. The pair allows a few minutes after the ritual has been completed for what appears just a silent meditation on their surroundings. There they remain for a while in the hollow, sad world that always follows the best meals. Canine and man stay a while to patiently digest, allowing their eyes to get glossed over in pools of reflective bliss. Above the rain ricochets in pin drops against the glass, and the clouds draw further and further in. Then a sudden yank on the black rope lead, and a metallic jangle of dog tags signals their time to leave the bus stop, so that I’m left alone with the wind and the bones.
