There’s a Monster Out Back

As a sickly newborn,

(They sent my parents home

on day two,

told them to order a coffin.)

I cannot remember, but

I am sure it defines certain behaviors

erupting over five decades later–

the intensity of the incubator,

back in the day, 24/7.

Well, surprisingly, it worked,

and somehow the mucus plugs

buried deep in both lungs, dislodged.

No one was more surprised

than the doctor, who provided

treatment for the next ten years

free of charge, because

resiliency surprised him so.

Welcome to planet earth.

We hope you enjoyed the ride.

My childhood repetitive nightmare

was traversing a narrow boardwalk

with alligators in the waters,

then the deafening sound

of a train approaching,

then inside a chicken coop

under attack by a coyote,

feathers flying everywhere.

At this point,

my parents would wake me,

the fever often over 104 degrees,

and into a cold bath I’d be dropped.

There’s a monster out back,

and it’s pissed I yet breath

and dare to call it out.

Come Close Again III

Dust.

A soft landing…

Who would have thunk

this white sand

might be a catchment

for a dream beyond

the boundaries.

Why do we live happily

within silly confines?

I do not know.

But look, look!

It is so!

Postscript: I recognize every Shakespearean scholar will piss on this post, my daring to say look, look, so offensive to their domain. But really: Look. Look!

Never Look Directly at the Sun

Mom kinda overdid it.

As the eclipse approached

she made it all too clear:

if I dared go outside and look up,

blindness would follow.

I spent that darkening,

cowering under

the dining room table,

a terrified four year old,

waiting for the nemesis to pass.

Oddly, my elderly mother

is now nearly blind –

And I remain curious as to the secrets

hidden just off center, if

we dare glance at the Sun.

You?

Come Close Again II

A Dream

The sidewalks through town bustled as I stumbled along, head down, observing the patterns made by discarded gum on the cement. A sound not unlike gears grinding overhead caught my attention. There the moon spun, massive, no further away than you’d expect to find the clouds. Stunned, perhaps struck dumb even, I looked to the others nearby, but none seemed to notice. Then, in the distance, perhaps a mile away, I saw the first transit. A man was pulled up to the hovering moon overhead. And then scanning the horizon, others were also being drawn to the moon’s surface, yet those around me continued going about their business, unaware. With longing guiding my actions, I leapt up, and soon found myself pulled into the sky, leaving this world behind.