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ARTISAN REVIEW
to all of it, just that I want to speak to you but really, though I thought I
had something, don't know what to say. Silly, I know, or another word,
but if you can, do." Waits. ''I'm serious. I'd love an answer from you of
any recognizable kind. That means ... but I don't think I have to tell
you." Cups his ear, aims it at the moon, listens. "Or could be you speak
so low I can't hear you. Or one has to make an appointment to speak
with you since so many may want to. That it? Well of course you can't
answer if it was: the necessary appointment first. You might not even
be
listening. But you'd have to be if one did have to make an appointment
to speak to you, but forget it, all to most of that. To be safe: all." Thinks:
Why my talking so ridiculously? Moon making me do it: full, and calm
face that makes me nervous, besides the heavenly night? From now on
just look at the moon, forget talking to it, because you also might wake
one of the family. Looks. Nice round face, round nice face, some cultures
- no, don't start saying what some other cultures see in the configurations
of the moon that we see as a face. Rabbits, monkeys, one culture, just the
profile of a duck. But he told himself not to say. Just look, see what
comes from that. Does. It's a nice sight, that's all. Meaning: that's plenty,
more than plenty, so what more can he say? Nice sight, nice round face,
in ways there can be nothing more beautiful anywhere at any time than
this kind of night with this kind oflight. Bright, clear, full moon, stars, no
other light but from that lighthouse five or so miles away, perfect weather
so to speak, perfect night so to speak, every now and then bird sounds,
loons, steady clicks and hum of harmless insects, no planes, no distur–
bances, no natural or manmade rumblings, beautiful view, everything
perfect so to speak, his health good, life with his wife very good, kids
healthy and fine and sound asleep, rest of the world's what it is but most
of it now seems at peace. Things seems to be going relatively well almost
everywhere right now, better in the universe that he knows than at any
time he's known it. This is a great moment, these have been great min–
utes, everything near to being perfect as things can come near to being
that, so to speak, mind alive, active, excited, enthusiastic, he feels good,
he doesn't know how he could ever feel better, if he went to bed now
and felt like sex he's sure no matter how tired his wife was she'd comply.
But he could fall asleep with her or alone on that chaise longue there and
it would feel as good. There are no threats, demands, regrets, nothing he
wants, right now everything's right, what more could he want than this
night, what more any other day or night could he want? So this is the end
then. The end. This is it, so to speak. Can't think of anything else. Can't
speak. Stares for a long time at the moon. Minutes. Tries to see if he can
stare at it without anything coming into his head. Things come but
nothing much. Feels so damn good, feels at peace. Then gets a little tired
