We are building a fence with the pretty side toward our house and the ugly side toward the neighbor, our father tells us that we shouldn't fraternize with those people, emphasis on every single syllable of every word, what does it mean to emphasize anything. But we got it, we understand, the fence is glistening in the snow the next day, this crazy spring, 90 degrees one day, snow the next our father says, I'm glad we weatherproofed that cocksucker.
We grew up in a house on a hill with a rolling driveway and when we'd get on our huge tricycle made for the two of us we'd rush down the driveway without stopping at the bottom to see if anyone was coming either direction, look both ways our mother would always say, look both ways. We would not look both ways. We refused to look both ways. One day in our speed down the hill, our grandpa neighbor nearly hit us with his car. We were sure we had plenty of time/space, he would not have hit us but he was convinced he almost damn near did and backed his Cadillac up, drove into our driveway and told our parents.
Our parents have lived in the same house for over 30 years. Today is the day of decay. Snow and then sun. Heat, cold, heat. I don't have anyone's numbers anymore. I forgot how to ride a bike.
Our father has convinced us we need to help him do fun jobs, he calls them, help me do a fun job and when our father says that you know that his fun job is going to be so unbelievably lame or horrible, it's going to fucking suck no matter what. Sometimes, though, we entertained him. Today is not one of them, hammering shelves into the bathroom closet for our mom.
We squat, my legs underneath me, your legs to the side, we are queens and kings of this domain
where we live forever. It is snowing, look at the snow.
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