hot garbage

It seems more often than not, these days anything out of my mouth is a downer. I'm simply a reminder that life doesn't always go your way. I'm the stink of a refuse depot neighboring a water reclamation plant. It's not so bad...

Chloe mentioned recently that her favorite phrase is one that invokes all your senses - "hot garbage."

Feel it with me: the stench of a wet summer relentlessly pummeling red and brown carcasses, causing their sticky-furred hides to peel back and reveal bleached bone churning with freshly hatched maggots. All this wrapped in fermenting cabbage and soggy diapers that blast through you like the concussion of a bomb. This thing that is the worst of the worst, can be turned around and appreciated with a sharp wit, deeply twisted humor, and a greater understanding of everything and our small place in it. "It's visceral" she says. I can't argue with that, and i smile loving the hot garbage along her side, breathing deeply and feeling the burn of putrid appreciation.

I love my wife, nothing will change that.

Even feeling the sting in our eyes from the rotting heap, we can smile and love everything that is good.