Well –
I always start with this one fact:
That of the four siblings in our family only one finished college,
And his degree is in “Recreation”. . .
If you-see-how-I-mean . . .
His one answer
For all things philosophical
Comes from a tenet
Of that Doctrinal Inculcation:
That 90% of the Enjoyment of any given Event
Is ANTICIPATION . . .
<Ah, gee, what I see is this:
That 90% of the Terror of any given doleful event
Is in the DREAD . . .but leave that there>
What I am anticipatin’ is this:
I’M GONNA GO MEDIEVAL
On the crabgrass
With the Pre-Emergent,
But not for six-months, yet . . .
For the rest of Autumn,
I’ll wait and watch to see
If my overseed will have taken . . .
Then the lawn will go dormant,
Covered in snow, unseen . . .
Until Spring,
Which will then be the Season of Retribution
When I repay the humiliation of this last summer
When crabgrass ran rampant, wild, over all of the yard . . .
Now will I bring Lawn Order
Good & Hard.




William Faulkner wrote The Sound and the Fury five separate times, “trying to tell the story, to rid myself of the dream.” “It began with a mental picture,” he told Jean Stein in 1956, “of the muddy seat of a little girl’s drawers in a pear tree.” He couldn’t seem to get it right, to find the picture’s grammar, or hear it. (According to Didion, “It tells you. You don’t tell it.”) This was part of the work, this getting it wrong—Faulkner believed failure was what kept writers going, and that if you ever could write something equal to your vision, you’d kill yourself.

