in the bottom of my bath basin.  I do not imagine most Americans call it that.  But the word “tub”… is just.. well, ugh.  I think of a tub of lard… or a tub that you throw stuff into (utilitarian but not exactly a thing of beauty).   I mean, even a Tuba sounds like… a Tub+A.  Guitar has a much cooler ring to it.  Anyway, back to the dead moth.  So this thing flew into my shower and I watched it fly into the beating stream (I have one of those adjustable showers and I like the sado setting like raining ball bearings of hot water pelting my back like a good snowball fight).  I thought about scooping up the guy and letting him back out…. but then I figured.. it’s just a damn moth, how long do they live anyway?  Which set off a philosophical conundrum in the foundry of my mind.   We do not live that long relatively speaking.  A Redwood would probably look at me and scoff… and then a Joshua tree (not the U2 album) would comment about the Redwood “oh those silly kids”.  I kind of like the Buddhist idea of reincarnation but what if there is no remembrance of your former thing?  And what if you were reincarnated as the same thing 10 times… or 1000…  So anyway, the moth took about 2 days to finally go down the drain, it kind of hung out in the tide of my showers…  taunting or haunting me, not sure. Just some food for thought.. or some words to digest.. or some other lame gastronomical appropriation… So here is something vaguely related…

“falling” 6.10.18

we are all

in free-fall

terminal velocity

no parachute

or guaranty

without doubt

we reach the bottom

when? we do not know

but the meet the ground

and into

we will go

scream or be terrified

or simply

enjoy the ride.