chris's dad


That was back when things were cold and made out of 2x4s
And my belly was young and straight down and you when you looked at my forearms they were stringy and calculated with finger movement.
I liked the leather belts and suede bags that held nails and sawdust and smell.

I could put them in my left hand like a bandolier and sling them out like a gun, zinks, sinkers, galvies, 8ds 10s I liked the feel and knowing that that these things we did under the truculent sun and the opulent cold winter was better than a machine. The things I touched with my hands. Every cut.