Saturday, August 7, 2010

"Russia, Crippled by Drought, Bans Grain Exports"

Dramatis personae:
Seamus, 21, Irish
Linda, 20, American

Lights up.

The world is fucked up. Talk about a hackneyed expression. If it ain't a drought, it's a forest fire or a dam bursting. I can't take you to a restaurant for fear the produce wasn't locally farmed or the animals were abused. I can't buy you a ring for fear I'll commit the moral transgression of fueling civil war in Africa. I can't take you on a road trip across Europe for fear of contributing to our dependence on oil.

I want no gifts. Not the gift of time nor the gift of rightfulness. I want only to live unconsciously with you.

But are we the products of our context or our present circumstances?

I don't know. Kiss me.

They kiss as the sun continues to blaze and burn the ground into the night.


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