essay: #059: Incendiary

Incendiary.
A word, befitting, our times.
Aflame.
Combustible.
Within, a split second, of itself.

Chris Cleave, author.
Incendiary: A Novel of Unbearable Devastation And Unbounded Love.
A mood, I slip into.
Like a pre-9/11, cocktail.
That's no longer, on the menu.

Yes.
Freak tornado, sandstorm and 9ft-waves, occur in Israel.
Apocalypse, notwithstanding.
And a literary plea, to Osama.
Punctures holes, in my world.
Honest.
Breaks my heart.
And says, so much.
About the here.
About, the now.

# #

My man says:
Power to the people…
When, what he really means, is:
How can one person, make a difference?

# #

Cleve says:
The last thing I wrote was N/A on an income support form that wanted NAME OF SPOUSE OR PARTNER. So you see I'll do my best but you'll have to bear with me beause I'm not a big writer. I'm going to write to you about the emptiness that was left when you took my boy away. I'm going to write so you can look into my empty life and see what a human boy really is from the shape of the hole he leaves behind.

I say:
I rest my case...

# transmission ends #