As I sit here pondering my problems you walk past swinging that in beautiful motion. I long to touch the softness the sweetness the warm, hungry flesh but my thoughts wander elsewhere as the mirage fades into the john. |
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Red Glazed Gas-lit Half-dollar Hanging In endless Blue. |
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Blacktop lane A jagged edge Of surging steel And naked nerves. Interstate, Low-lead comet's Orbital path. My life, A whisper in time, Catapulting through space at 70 miles per hour. |
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It was 1959. I was playing on the floor in Eisenhower innocence when the walls began moaning and vibrating windows and teeth rattling we stared frozen in naive fright as did Japanese citizens in Nagasaki and Hiroshima human guinea pigs of the Heavy Water Project. Mother said it was the end of Time and made the six of us bathe in preparation as she did once before when the full moon glared scarlet in a hazy atmosphere (I gave away my comic books the next day thinking it was sinful). But a radio voice informed us our Air Force had broken the Sound Barrier velocity 1100 feet per second a major accomplishment placing us light years ahead of the Russians in spite of Sputnik and we should all be proud even though afterward we were advised to discontinue eating snow. |
copyright © 1993 Owen Morgan