Beating your head on the inside of the door
locked in and subject to the reoccuring frustrations
The door is too thick
straightjacket unwilling
banging and banging
No resolve
No relief
No reprieve
The thick wood and brick
Sealed within
A tomb
Asylum mania
Brain damage
Skull fractures
I was born into a prison
Floor strewn with hay
No guard outside the bars
Just a servant to poke food through at the end of the day
Mother's face
Forbidden legacy
Kept in secret
in captivity
Bars thin but unbreakable
unrustable
The skin sweat coating
from long hours of reflection
of incarceration
of keeping my small body strong
In the still air of the dungeon
Beneath
She drove me to the moutain retreat in texas transpecos.
The heat of summer still heating the highway there.
Sarah conner scenic.
She changed gears as we got to the foothills.
Would show me the big vegetable garden.
And teach me a thing or two about gardening there.
The day clear as a linda hamilton apron.
Pre egg insertion.
Jenny turned to me and asked-
"Rest stop?"
I nodded slowly distracted by the ponderosas.
The brakes slowly squeaked.
A concrete structure appeared over the rise.
A steel skeleton stood propped up next to the seven eleven sign.
A mother and her Furlong in a stroller walked briskly past.
Light purple flowers hung from the texas Arnold sage bushes.
Massive bulging branches holding thick bracts of flowers.
Each one being targeted by drone like bees.
"How did you know, that was there?"
"I could see it in my mind." Jenny said
A small convenience shop and bathrooms came into view.
Snacks and relief later back into those foothills.
Climbing just high enough to see the vegetation change.
There is it was the smile on her face told me.
Pulling in to a narrow dusty driveway.
The old train station sitting in the forest
The roof gray damp and gathering moss
The southern side in shade
Old graffiti faded barely readable
Each letter a latent spirit hanging
Draping down in different uneven shapes
Eyes squint to decipher them
Morning trades places with afternoon
It all merges again into a different form
Extending like icicles pointing down
Cold and accusing
The ferns at the base of the wall
Curl up to keep fronds from touching
The empty small building
Waiting to be inhabited
I see you clothed in yellow flowers
I see them falling
I no longer see the mists
The one that came down like hot water to dispatch you
Oh the far away goddess
I dreamed of being loved by you for a lifetime
The world wanted to see strength
I guess i can pretend
Disdain makes such strange fuel
But I'm glad I was there to show you how far I'd go
Every piece of the son or the child soured over into
such a cynical older man
You are separated and so far
Celebrations bring the may breeze
And those abundant yellow flowers
That cover the path you married on
Big dreams were lived and new ones sown
Go on with the old illusions
wrapped for a chrstmas that will never come
Like leaves dried and flattened in a book
labeled and forgotten
Am I one of those to you woman?
Am I one of those to you world?
Am I just waiting to be the dehydrated page you open
Reminisce that I might have shared a piece of myself
I imagine dying slowly running out of breath
as my heart fights my lungs for not reaching for more
Does that do for comedy
These tears absurd
In your perfect bubble on the ass end of the world
You might pour a glass to toast the wandering offspring
Who could not corner his prey
Who lost his bounce
Who sees the gates there resplendent
With those yellow flowers
That got you an inch closer to a truth
Palatable to a world of labels
I left the tall forests walking slowly back toward the townlight
I avoided a swamp and some hissing reptillian in the grass before me
Wrists and ankles humming with electricity
Moving witht he slow drifting cloud
Painted with the reflection of city light
A town I didn't know loved me
That would welcome me back
Even though I need the altitude
The delusions and comfort of highplaces
The world may never move there
So I'll move myself
Like an ambitious orphan
teaching himself the way back to
The city of light
I left it all and felt the shape fo the rock in my hands
What was I thinking as a four year old boy
When I had been here to investigate in dreams
Up here in the forbidden peaks of the Mantiquera
In the innocent heat
I wrote your name with my finger
steam and wist
A star blink
Longing comes when the day is gone
How we wish thing were different
Casting spells instead of talking
Giving offerings but saying nothing
I could see the outline of something forming
coming through the street
The hush has fallen over the city
Must we wonder what could have been
In the innocent heat
The kind that tests sanity
That make me forget this aging vessel
The spirit of something manifesting
Blowing steam against a cold window
wistfully painting that name
Hope always there to take
reality a fickle finders keepers sort of goblin
