THE WALK
Every day, whatever the weather, I walk around the neighborhood.
It’s gated and ideally isolated with circles of streets
To explore and upon which to muse.
The midafternoon sun splinters into shards of light
Between the leaves of Washingtonia palms
Standing at attention, guardians of the fortress.
Oh no, here comes Mrs. O’Leary with
Her little cow dog Cecil and oh
I hope that little cow rat doesn’t scratch my shins yet again.
With my next step I’m stumbling in a desert.
Empty and I mean empty save for sand stretching to the rim of an impossibly distant
horizon.
The sand and sun glitter like gold, and the sky, a cloudless brilliant blue.
There is no sound and no pin to drop. Nothing.
I spin around twice looking for my fortress and suddenly
A thick black snake slithers silently across the sand right over my feet,
Strangely accelerating as it makes for the horizon.
I must be dreaming, dreaming! But how can I be dreaming?
And like that there is a man,
Nondescript and very tan,
Standing thirty or forty yards away.
He wears a tan t-shirt, like mine.
A thin black beard,
Tennis shoes.
His eyes meet mine for an instant.
They fire missiles at the speed of light.
My legs turn to water and I collapse on my back.
I stare up at the golden sun, body numb.
Heart burning can’t breathe and in the next instant
I am somewhere else.
The interrogation room, oh yes a place I remember well,
Down to the black tooth behind the detective’s sneering smile.
This time I will answer yes. Yes, yes, yes.
I do not want to be free but not free.
Now I am nose to nose with t-shirt man on the sand
With handcuffs on my bleeding hands. I do not look him in the eye but
I strike at his face with them, inexplicably enraged.
I will not look him in the eye, no sir.
He dissolves into the sand and now I am
Where? In agony in the air, far as far can be beyond repair.
My body an inch from being ripped in two.
I scream inside but no sound comes out.
To my left, a bloody face with unperturbed eyes.
I beg for help I think and I see gathering clouds.
Now I am drowning in a sea of blood,
Gasping and flailing, my heart ripped and raging,
Handcuffed again and boom the sea is gone.
What the hell is going on? Free but not free.
At last I hear a thousand ugly voices
Bellowing accusations and thundering humiliations,
And the solitary snake races toward me through the mud.
The snake frightens me to my feet.
I try to run but I’m lucky I can limp.
Cecil is scratching my shins, drawing blood.
Mrs. O’Leary and I exchange a laugh,
I lift Cecil up into my arms
And hug him as I’ve never hugged before.
(Photos by author)
