a small digital
scale,
it reads
to the tenth
of a gram,
hundredth
of a gram.
i place small
items upon it,
items that are
said to be
uniform,
identical.
every new,
identical,
item i place upon
the small digital
scale, it
tells me
the weight is
different.
the items,
the same,
identical,
but not
the same.
people in Vermont
take their maple
syrup seriously.
if you say you are
selling Grade A,
it goddamned better well be
Grade A.
we have a
test for that.
we have
standards
for that.
we have a
State job that will
certify and record
that.
the State man,
he’s in the small
store i am
working in.
a serious man.
a man of weights
and measurements.
a man of
standards,
rules,
precision.
we joke and act
foolish, me
and my co-workers,
in this small store.
the State man
silently
does his tests,
focuses
on his measurements.
we sell
several grades of
maple syrup
at this store,
the State man
will test every one.
my co-worker,
a short Jewish man
from New Jersey,
he says to me,
he says
“i have an
older brother
and we couldn’t be
any more different”.
“oh?”
i reply,
“so your
older brother
is a 6’5”
black man?”.
from the corner of
my eye, i see
the State man,
busy
at his measurements.
i see the
subtly curled corner
of his mouth.
the bubble of laughter,
it does not escape
from his mouth, but
i see it,
hanging there
ripely,
in his throat.
i feel very strongly
about the things
i feel strongly
about.
i apply the word
“genius”
to a new band,
new to me,
that i like.
“why do you like
this band?”,
i am asked.
“because they are
genius”,
my reply.
other people,
they don’t feel
as strongly
about the band.
they might not
feel even so strongly
about any music
in general.
they might think
music is fine
but hunting,
that’s the true joy
of life.
walking in
the woods.
not talking.
listening
for birds
and for the
footfall
of prey.
what we like,
it is arbitrary.
humans
are all
identical,
all
the same.
when god places our souls
upon the scale, they
all weigh about
the same.
but not exactly.
the point
of life
is life.
zakschafer.com 