196

Calories in a pint of Guinness, or so says the sign. You wonder why you are here, or anywhere. Who these people are and why they follow such customs to amuse themselves so.

Trying to write, in such contexts, for these others seems obtuse. Yet there is Bruce Guthro, putting words to song about the ridiculous "Come to life" slogan. How he pulls off "where wild meets serene" I don't know. And yet.

As the ruby-lipped St. John's mother walks by, to straighten your tie, as the band sets up to begin again. As you ponder your eternal question, which is simply: why? Take what you have learned. But then what, the suit with the Guinness at the Old Triangle asks, as the music begins to play.

I still don't know. I have better ideas. But I don't yet know.