Keep The Light On and an Excerpt from Track 1 of "Sons and Daughters of The Earth"

We have fallen behind. At least a month has gone missing--maybe more. It's not a strange thing to happen when you find yourself in Los Angeles--especially in Echo Park--being welcomed by the many warm arms of the cult known as The Sons and Daughters of The Earth(a very loose veil covering their real name).

There are details that must, for the moment, be spared as concerning this chunk of missing time. The welcoming ceremony, for sure, must be omitted; as for the rest, it will come out soon enough in a book entitled, simply, "Sons and Daughters of The Earth." I will provide an excerpt of the first chapter(Track 1) of this book in another minute or two.

Before I do so, I would like to mention that for all of the things I must refrain from saying presently, there is one thing that cannot be put off any longer--the best poem I saw in the fast life of the floating world:

The rain from the night before had carried into the next afternoon. Outside of a cafe, there was a small group of young folks drinking whiskey and water out of styrofoam cups, discussing the different ways of romanticizing their own lives. As talk of handjobs behind dumpsters and other sordid business arose, an old Filipino man came walking very slowly around the corner. He was hunched over in his wool suit, further than a man in good health should be, and he held his umbrella, inexplicably, under his arm; the rain could be seen matting his hair to his head, and dripping through the thick, dark creases in his face and on his neck. He was walking slow enough to see each and every drop. For twenty minutes he stayed in view, in motion, crossing the street at a snail's pace to eventually get to the bus stop. And when he finally arrived, it was in perfect sync with the arrival of the bus. It pulled to the curb and stopped. He nearly crawled up the steps and paid the driver. Then all at once, the bus began moving, carrying the old Filipino man out of sight, back in the direction he had come.

At this, someone at the table, in between sips from their styrofoam cup, said very quietly, "We're all trying to get back to the place where we've come." The remark was heard, but not commented on. It was clear to everyone present that the party who had spoken was either intoxicated or heartbroken--either could be easily ignored. But they all internalized it anyway. They thought about the places where they wished they could go back to; they daydreamed about walking out of the dark back to their homes; and they all whispered to their loved ones in their heads, "Yes, I've been drinking a lot. But I never did those things you thought I did. Let me come back to you someday. Please, keep the light on." Surely, they all must have been both a little intoxicated and heartbroken--what young person in America isn't?

Sons and Daughters of The Earth
(To be released as an audiobook, on vinyl, sometime after my return to LA in the fall. Stay tuned for details on the fundraiser/live event, donation opportunities, and possible involvement in different aspects of the project itself.)
TRACK 1

Partially hidden away on a residential street in Echo Park in California, nestled behind another home at an unnamed 1/2 address on Lone Shore Ave., at the bottom of a steeply graded empty lot where coyotes graze at night, there is a house growing from the side of a giant avocado tree. And in this treehouse there once lived the "cult"--though more accurately described as a family--known as The Sons and Daughters of The Earth. They were a mix-up of 100 different species at least, consisting of your basics, such as your dogs, your cats, your turtles, your squirrels, your birds, etc., along with your more exotic types, such as your lions, your sex panthers(they do exist), your monkeys, your koalas, a single wolf that was said to be domesticated, and they were all men and women too(save for that bastard wolf), who lived together as a family until just two weeks ago to the day when they met their bizarre and untimely deaths.

The house is no longer occupied by anything representative of a family. Those who have heard rumors of the demise of The Sons and Daughters of The Earth and who have ventured into the neighborhood to attempt a glance at the place where they once lived have failed terribly at this because they cannot get through. The property is sanctioned off by investigators who at this moment still haunt the grounds, looking through every nook and cranny of the home in search of some sort of tangible clue as to why, some sort of logical explanation for their extraordinary rise and sudden fall.

//

Quickly: thank you to everyone in LA who supported me in all of the different ways that a person can be supported--I love you; also, thank you to everyone in Kerrville, Tx. who helped me through my kidnapping and assisted me in arriving safely in Colorado--I love you as well.

Ave Maria,
Benjamin Font