The Hawk
(Continuation of Letter to Harry from Mike...)
....What do you do with yourself, physically? I stay indoors mostly, though I sojourn sometimes to a store or some such shit. I miss a town with squares and rectangles and circles laid out. Grass and grasshoppers - haven't seen a grasshopper in years, have you? One time, they came closer to wiping out human civilization than any other creature, so I read. That was a good question I missed on a high school test, and never forgot. I think I guessed rats, due to the plague. In fact, the only time I was ever complimented by a teacher on my acumen was when I asked if ants ever slept, or had been observed sleeping. He didn't know either. He called me "Mr. Zempter," everyone else was tom, dick or larry, harry.
FLASH: I had a root canal last week and the sucker did not hurt in the slightest, once I asked for plenty of novacaine. I never felt a twinge. Just in case you ever need one and people try to scare you. The dentist said some dentists don't use enough novacaine, ask for more. I am busting at the seams with writing ideas, but have been kind of hung up on pain-killers of late and haven't even been able to dream, or add and subtract, much less concentrate. I'm off them now and drifting back down to myself. No wonder they told me not to drive on them. I might've mistaken right for left, or something similar.
You must be relieved by impending spring and aggrieved at past winter. I don't even remember winter, really. Haven't been cold for three years. I miss it now. I felt the Hawk in Chicago one time in March and it was mighty. I leaned against it like it was a wall, though it did abate quickly and let me fall down, fuck the wind. At the base of the giant steps of some museum or library.
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Mike -
So I looked it up. And here I find:
The hawk /th/haawk/ n. slang. 1. Intense Chicago wind. Disputed: Sweeps up children and cats.
And I know why such a relative obscurity caught your attention Because you were swept up by a wind basting Italy's boot when you were but a tyke, and Dad had to run after you. He was a young man yet, if a heavy smoker practically from the womb. If he hadn't caught you, running down that mountain trail from our house on the cliffs overlooking the sea, and caught you before you gusted in a terrible direction out of reach over the abyss, what would have become of us all?
You are more acutely missed and fondly discussed each day you are absent.