Pure and Crumbling Gist

Who were they? Could be gist about anyone.
The younger man had a delicate conversation
with a man from a foreign time and from
a place close by but inaccessible, who was
his father.

Words and efforts to make certain points
passed like ping pong balls between them
all the while and for weeks afterward
two frames were framed around
the other.

They didn’t ask what they were doing
rather they imposed their own feeling
wallpapering over the previous layer
of styled and dated and overly personal
wallpaper.

The younger man got older and the older
man felt and watched long held positions
break apart into lath and wire
into plaster out of pure wall not pure
after all.

As the son matured he took turns
deconstructing inherited constructions
the strongest views became the weakest
scaffolding left partial and rusting like
a testimony.

From nine into the nineties give and take
took longer to crumble and consume and
shorter to knuckle down like dough to rise
and bake like bread the gist of which
was a conversation.

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About mrsorenson

all over the place
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