March 26, 2005

It’s Easter and you want to ease the suffering of the world. You’re not Christ, so all you can do is play scrabble, drink coffee, and nail someone. Scrabble is like sex — you can get sweaty and sensuous over words like ‘ninon’ and ‘whir.’ When you finish your coffee, embrace her in the middle of the game and whimper strange words in her ear as you press your hard-on against her thigh.

After your hour of passion and compassion, hang on to her body as though she’s some sort of crucifix, a connection to a world of sighs. Tenderness is the drug that will heal a thousand wounds. Think of tenderness and suffering, and take her with you on a walk in the wilderness.

Kiss her on top of a dam overlooking a frozen lake. The sky is violently blue and her hands are warm. “Let’s walk on the lake,” say, rushing down towards the unknown. She’ll follow you on the thin layer of ice that separates you from the gallons of mud underneath. Now and again a foot will slip through the ice into a muddy mess. It’s been a while since you’ve done anything this crazy.

In the middle of the lake tell her stories about forests that are now nothing more than gnarled skeletons that appear on the surface of the lake in the spring. It’s a lovely day and you want to spend it with her and talk about suffering.

“Stay with me tonight.”

“My mother is cooking turkey.” Turkey is a disgusting bird.

“I’ll buy you a different kind of bird,” say. “A chicken. We’ll even stuff it full of Easter eggs and gorge ourselves. Hell, we could even nail it … on a cross! Our chicken will be deeply symbolic and yummy.”

She’s not buying it, this crazy talk of nailing chickens. She thinks there’s more to Easter than just playing scrabble, drinking coffee, and nailing someone. You’ll have to compromise — let her kiss you once more in the sunset and tomorrow make her get rubber boots so you can walk together through swamps.

Rubber will ease the suffering of the world.