His Game Suffers

22 June 2017

Reading Geoffrey Brock's book on twentieth-century Italian poetry here at McDonald's. Is it enough that I have these enjoyable times? Do I have to produce?

Dark clouds

Even as light sunshine begins

To fade them

Still signify what day

Is, what follows

Night.

Just now, a tall, young black guy walks in and sits at a table in front of me. He comes over to ask about the Bluetooth keyboard that I am using. I don't think he is really interested. He just wants to justify his presence and why he looked at me.

He is waiting for his car being worked on at Auto Zone next door. He goes back to his table. As music plays in the background, he taps his foot, his hand banging on the imaginary drum set. He told me he didn't play music. His life is made up of working on cars, taking care of his five-year-old girl, and playing basketball.

Children these days are "smarter but weaker" than children before. They know so much but lack discipline. They like to disobey their parents.

He is lean and tall. If he gains 10 lbs, 15 lbs, his game suffers. So he doesn't eat much. His game would suffer.