Friday, May 28, 2004
SPUD
I could feel infinite creation peering over my shoulder.
The potatoes steamed in the sun at my feet.
For a second the golf club’s dark silhouette stained the clear blue sky, then an after image as I swung mightily, powered by teen muscles and a manly grunt.
Time slowed into Zeno’s paradox.
Eons seemed to pass, the earth slowly ground away at its orbit, lumbering, spinning, hurtling through space.
The edge of the driver met the soft skin of the potatoes.
There are certain discoveries one makes in life that simply can’t be fathomed until they are experienced, like the lightening storm created by a fork in a microwave, or a broken arm from jumping off the roof with a bedspread as parachute.
I had never played golf or roasted potatoes.
A bubbling cauldron of carbohydrates, this devil’s brew gushed straight into my fresh young face, scalding my investigative innocence with a burning epiphany.
Hot potato.
The potatoes steamed in the sun at my feet.
For a second the golf club’s dark silhouette stained the clear blue sky, then an after image as I swung mightily, powered by teen muscles and a manly grunt.
Time slowed into Zeno’s paradox.
Eons seemed to pass, the earth slowly ground away at its orbit, lumbering, spinning, hurtling through space.
The edge of the driver met the soft skin of the potatoes.
There are certain discoveries one makes in life that simply can’t be fathomed until they are experienced, like the lightening storm created by a fork in a microwave, or a broken arm from jumping off the roof with a bedspread as parachute.
I had never played golf or roasted potatoes.
A bubbling cauldron of carbohydrates, this devil’s brew gushed straight into my fresh young face, scalding my investigative innocence with a burning epiphany.
Hot potato.
