Honestly, Logan appreciated the company. It touched him in a way he
couldn't quite articulate, and in a way he didn't want to
articulate. Logan lived a difficult life. Violence was his purpose, calling
card, and only skill or talent he had to offer anybody. To be cared about,
to have company that wasn't about violence, that wasn't asking him to be
brutal or brutalised, was a relief.
He paused for a moment, about to brush off Jean's request, but instead he
pushed through the momentary bashfulness, and flipped to a favorite.
"When I see a couple of kids
And guess he’s fucking her and she’s
Taking pills or wearing a diaphragm,
I know this is paradise
Everyone old has dreamed of all their lives—
Bonds and gestures pushed to one side
Like an outdated combine harvester,
And everyone young going down the long slide
To happiness, endlessly. I wonder if
Anyone looked at me, forty years back,
And thought,
That’ll be the life;No God any more, or sweating in the darkAbout hell and
that, or having to hide What you think of the priest. HeAnd his lot will
all go down the long slide Like free bloody birds. And immediately
Rather than words comes the thought of high windows:
The sun-comprehending glass,
And beyond it, the deep blue air, that shows
Nothing, and is nowhere, and is endless."
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timeasmymeasure
no subject
Date: 2017-04-03 06:39 am (UTC)Honestly, Logan appreciated the company. It touched him in a way he couldn't quite articulate, and in a way he didn't want to articulate. Logan lived a difficult life. Violence was his purpose, calling card, and only skill or talent he had to offer anybody. To be cared about, to have company that wasn't about violence, that wasn't asking him to be brutal or brutalised, was a relief.
He paused for a moment, about to brush off Jean's request, but instead he pushed through the momentary bashfulness, and flipped to a favorite.
"When I see a couple of kids And guess he’s fucking her and she’s Taking pills or wearing a diaphragm, I know this is paradise
Everyone old has dreamed of all their lives— Bonds and gestures pushed to one side Like an outdated combine harvester, And everyone young going down the long slide
To happiness, endlessly. I wonder if Anyone looked at me, forty years back, And thought,
That’ll be the life;No God any more, or sweating in the darkAbout hell and that, or having to hide What you think of the priest. HeAnd his lot will all go down the long slide Like free bloody birds. And immediately
Rather than words comes the thought of high windows: The sun-comprehending glass, And beyond it, the deep blue air, that shows Nothing, and is nowhere, and is endless."