Five Alarm Fire

Henry is a quiet lunatic. That makes him more dangerous.

Not that he tries to be - he just is.

Worse yet, his lunacy flows seamlessly into the insanity of the times, giving it a veneer of acceptability.

We went to the same day labor job once. I remember it well as the sun kept popping through the humid clouds as if we'd stepped under a heat lamp.

I wrote down beforehand the license plate of the asshole in charge and, sure enough, he took off without paying.

I told Henry for 25 bucks we could look up the guy's address. But he didn't care. Said he must not of deserved the money.

That was a five alarm fire to me. Others said leave him be if that's what he wants.

Nobody wants that. Somewhere, the lava was rising. It showed in his politics as he was adamant in his support for the arson party.

But in these times - where the list of things unfaced expands daily like air in a balloon, where fear of words that can be heard riddles the soul like bullet holes, where the weight of a doomed future swallows sad hearts - to many silence is truly golden, a nonthreatening treasure not to be questioned.

So I wasn't surprised when I heard Henry launched a brick into some girl's car windshield. He'd been panhandling off 635 and she refused to oblige him. I guess Henry felt that was money he did deserve.

I walk around, I see so many five alarm fires I realize there's not enough firemen to put them out even if we were to try. Have you noticed no one ever says, "All bad things must come to an end."

But we will.