this happened to the father of my best friend last night.
watching the video you can see who the people are in the place we’re from. the newscaster’s indian, she gives me this vibe of strange ambition but i don’t mind her, her haircolor, the good samaritans are italian and irish, and there’s a fifteen-year-old kid, middle-aged women, everyone, it’s massachusetts.
and like a scorsese morning i watch four italian pallbearers cross manhattan avenue and then a couple more come along, they all look like cousins and uncles and brothers.
the video floods me with love for human beings. like what’s good and bad in us can be good and bad but i love what’s sturdy and regular about doing the right thing to save a conflicted and angry man.
the way the anchorwoman pronounces the word “calm” plunges me deep into my childhood & my terror of that word calm, the way good people say it, the way people who frighten me say it.
i think about when a truck drove into me and how it changed my life.
about biblical inscriptions on vehicles of the road.
about metaphor being a greek word for transportation.
and that a moving vehicle is my favorite place to pray.