Ernest Maxwell

Ernest Maxwell looks at the clock on the wall and sees that the time between wars is now almost nonexistent—

 

He’s been teased and taunted into opening his valise of undiscovered gods, secret equations, abrupt breakups, inspiring beginnings, comical refusals, counterfeit data, manufactured emotions and predictable reprisals—

 

His humid green eyes ignore mistakes on the courthouse lawn as iron grey clouds gather and smoke from burning vineyards looks like mountains on the horizon like ladybugs crawling over split wood—

 

He kicks a diseased tree and pronounces: I am the Seamless Man, the Frontierless Man, the Peerless Man, the Reckless Man, the Guileless Man, the Handless Man, the Bookless Man, the Loveless Man, the Nationless Man, the Shadowless Man, the Doomsday Man, the Cashless Man, the Shoeless Man, the Hatless Man, the Feckless Man, the Theoryless Man, the Timeless Man, the Artless Man, the Moonless Man—

 

Done