Sunday, May 18, 2008
seeing red
Goldin
I was riding to Ikea when the first thing happened.
an explosion from a power pole scattered
shrapnel of fragile glass above my head.
instinctively i swerved,
missing several small red flames and
minutes later, i felt my blood race faster around my heart.
my body pulsating, i had had a fright.
up ahead a red shield gleamed
urging me to stop for salvation.
a musty, minging smell of worn out clothes and locker room rubbers
accosted me, as I stepped inside.
catching my eye, i picked up a red bandanna and tied it around my neck.
the price tag scraped at my chin and tugging the two ends for release,
only pulled it tighter around my neck.
the knot was jammed. i almost
lost my cheeks in an attempt to urge the red cloth up
and over my head,
it was to small. i felt ridiculous.
i tried to gnaw at the tiny knot with my teeth.
finally i stopped a woman in her tracks
who was wearing navy blue and a red shield.
holding out the knot I showed her my frustrating dilemma.
she didn't help, me nobody did.
ripping the price tag of i handed over $2.75 and left the shop with my red bandanna
tight around my neck.
on my bike again i balanced whilst waiting for the tram doors to close.
a man hovered between the gutter and the kerb.
as i rode passed him he screamed; you fucking MOLE!
Cooly i asked him if he had a hangover today.
riding on my mind switched to replay until, outraged
i turned around to hunt down my hovering horror
and found him behind the bar of the Terminus Hotel.
adrenaline confronted this stranger who's tattooed hand
lifted up the barn door to stand over me.
my question rattled from my throat
as i repeated, why did you have be so aggressive -
what is wrong with you?
after being hustled out of the bar
i rode myself down to the river where i sat
on the bank with my head in my hands and cried.
tears softening my vision until the leaves bled into one another.
returning home i lay down on my side, fell into a deep sleep
and dreamt off turbulent seas tossing ships with bellowing masts,
forgotten anchors and flagons of red red rum.
whence i awoke, my bandanna lay loose on my white pillow
and although one week to soon
i was bleeding......
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I get you here Nancy, like a forgoten smell that hits me suddenly
ReplyDeleteYou scary mutha. You okay?
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