bone yard Philosophy

[Axanderdeath]

Sunny morning in town and we all went to the grave yard to have a smoke and sit on some grave stones and I felt kind of strange doing that but did not want to say anything because I didn’t think it really mattered.

-should we be sitting here?

Tommy said. I made my mentally retarded face at him. Then some one else said.

-What Geoff you have no respect.

-no, just I felt a little odd about it too, but these tomb stone can’t feel a thing, man. What do you think you’re going to hell? What are we some kind of primitive dim-witts that have sacred ground?

-Geoff that is what we are in, sacred ground, this is a cemetery…

Tommy said with his mock mentally retard face on. The whole time none of us made any move to leave the grave yard. It was nice. In the middle of the small town we had driven in to that day. The yellowish grass that still seemed to be healthy and nature-istic.

-it is nice in here though you know. Isn’t that more of a complement to the dead people from this town, hell we’re hanging out with the dead. And, fuck man, it is not like we are pissing on the graves or anything, now that would be out of line, Bad bad.

I am looking at Tommy and blow cigarette smoke in to his eyes emphasizing with fake sincerity and he is looking back at me with his Neanderthal eyes and forehead, not leaving the bone yard, no no , sitting there and smoking just like me. Just he has fucked up his morals and that is all, or maybe it is the very fact that he still has them. I never knew him to have morals before.

-Tommy what is it? Because we are in a town you think the people here all are extremely religious and don’t live like us city folk?

I say “city folk” in a slack jawed hickish way.

-fuck off Geoff.

And then there was silence and when we were done our smoke and Tommy was first to do this, we all through them on the grave yard grass and scrubbed them in with our shoes. Then we left the sleepy town without seeing a soul.


Geoff A. Parsons

[joel]

I like the exploration of/commentation on "sacred ground." I just buried the most important, formative person in my life. I know that groud will always be sacred to me--but what about to others who go passing through to smoke?

Does my reverence require others to agree with me? What is true respect and honor? What is the meaning of land?

This piece succinctly opened a nice swath of questions for me. ...and the dialog came through naturally too (well done). Thanks.