stupid gavels

The trees look alive.  Maybe they are.  I wonder if they mind being turned into different things.  I wonder if it hurts them.  I don’t think it would.  I bet they get upset when they are made into stupid things.  Like gavels. Or tchotchkes.  Or maybe they like tchotchkes.  I kind of like tchotchkes.  They are kitschy.  I like kitschy things.  I do know if that is because I actually like them or because I really like the word “kitschy.”  Either way, the trees look alive.  I bet most people would think that trees would be wise since they are so old, but they only stay in one spot for their whole lives, so they are probably only wise about a small area.  That’s kind of useless unless you really need to know exactly what happened at the corner of Ramblewood Lane and Sparrow Court throughout the course of the past one hundred and fifty years.  Or unless they ponder philosophy.  Then they would be very wise.  They’ve had a lot of time to think, so they probably would know whether or not God exists and the true meaning of life.  They probably know the secret to world peace, too. The goddamn trees are holding out on us.  If they would let us know, maybe we could stop cutting them down and turning them into gavels.  Maybe they aren’t that wise.  I think that if they were, they would do everything in their power to stop becoming gavels.  (And maybe tchotchkes.)  Even if trees are not wise, I bet they like the wind.  It lets them move without us realizing that they are alive.  Well, we know that they are alive in the sense that they create oxygen and stuff, but I mean really alive.  They can stretch their limbs and shake out their knots when it’s windy and people don’t question it. 

I wonder what their stance woodpeckers is.  Also, squirrels.