The smell of cut grass comes in from the backyard and it’s true what they say about the smell of cut grass, it’s one of the nine precious heirlooms of human life. About so many things what they say is true and why do I keep forgetting this? Yes I have thought there was nothing more boring than listening to someone’s vacation until I stood before the Grand Canyon myself and felt it stir and return my gaze, a sentient being the size of a landscape previously concealed in post cards and Polaroids. That the Virgin Mary was being sighted again in Poland meant nothing to me until I saw her downtown, handing a dollar to a wandering man, who stepped into rush hour traffic to receive her mercy, and the traffic parted for him without accident. Tales of seeing the dead meant only that the speaker was misunderstanding something and then I saw one or two dead of my own, who lit matches to offer hints about the true size of where we all live. Now if I spot a cliché I go out of my way to meet it, maybe get knocked down by it, maybe helped back to my feet into a world richer than the one I left.