Withdrawing Fables From The Memory Bank
Part Five: Bang Bang
Dear Basil. Thanks for writing.
Another six inches of snow here in Cleveland last night. Just like in New York it makes things quiet and beautiful for a couple days—but I’m ready for April showers and flowers next month.
The constant caution of living underground gets exhausting. And since things ended with Abby, being alone gets crazy-making sometimes. She seems to have left town. I’m glad you and I met last year, however briefly, so I could tell you about what has happened here. It’s still hard to talk, or even think about it. Tortures me. I can only hope that things go well for all of us.
Oh yeah—a magazine piece I read recently about the Lincoln Memorial said that the shoe we met beside in Washington is a size 40. Big man.
Sure doesn’t look good for this war to end, even with all the outrage and protests happening. The newspapers posted that great photo of a guy placing a carnation into the barrel of a soldier’s rifle guarding the Pentagon, but I guess the levitation and exorcism of that monstrous place didn’t quite do the trick. That power won’t yield to flower power.
Hey—see if you can track down a short book at your library. It’s called The War Racket, written by a Major General Smedley Butler. In 1935 he had…
