commentary:
no one can explain why they came to shape the hidden aquifers of your life, but it is here, on Fountain Street, where you first stepped out of the unseen
cathexis
upstairs, my uncle relived his boyhood, looking from the garret window to the tree he had been tied to and into the corners of the yard where his impulses formed
he drove us to the pond by the frozen reservoirÐÐ my brother became pallid as animals do when divining pain, and we clambered out of the cab toward him
we undressed in a snowbank waiting for him to break the ice— he circled around, motioning to me
I conjoined with his hammer poised over the immutable sheen, though I was only a boy and could barely anticipate the future blows of initiation and affection
commentary:
affection between men has always been circumscribed by pain
here, in the balance between love and brutality lies the origin of sport, the first act of civilization