Is it safe to dance?

I suppose it’s the de rigeur thing to say something about “it” today. One thing I remember was driving past a Dunkin’ Donuts and just feeling this intense love for the stupid simple things and the fact that Dunkin Donuts was still just standing around making donuts and coffee. Yet it was as if the picture of really solid and grounded was simultaneously overlaid by a wavery screen of wistful ephemera.

A month or two later the Dunkin Donuts was gone, replaced by a different coffee shop. Maybe a better coffee shop, I wouldn’t know as I never actually set foot in either one. Everything I feel or think about the virtue or travesty of coffee and donuts is completely subjective and the absolute truth of them is beyond my ability to research, read about on the internet, watch movies about or trace through government records. All I have is a skittery, chimerical memory of my momentary feeling of love.

So there was a Dunkin Donuts and then there wasn’t a Dunkin Donuts.
I am not any safer when there is a Dunkin Donuts.
There is not any such thing as safety, there never was.