By David Newcomer
I know the history. Everyone does. Most of it is written, much of it is tangible, and some of it is named. But it is rarely spoken of directly.
We tiptoe and whisper. We smile and say yes. We politely defer conversation and steer inquiries to safer ground.
But while I publicly accept the risk—lay spooned with it now for twenty years (there is no sleep)—I’m ripping my guts out and need to run, yell, and scream.
Because despite my best efforts to save her, the indifference she maintains deteriorates the fuse and the potential for destruction grows daily.
A tale of wedded UNbliss? That’s the way I read it. Very true to life.
Not entirely sure what the subject is (something procreational?) but the dual meaning in the title and the graphic friction between surface and reality is captivating.
This has a great rhythm to it. Mysterious, somber, doomed. Love, again, goes “ka-blooey!”
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