A Place in Your Arms

What Place do you remember?

I remember being in your arms. real or imagined. Tanned, strong, warm. The fire is crackling and popping in front of us and you are whispering me how much you love me in my ear as I grin. Sound moves the air around me and tickles my ear and neck. Warm. It feels so nice as you play with my arm, creating the gentlest circles, carving paths there. But I know in the back of my mind not to believe you. Though I have no reason to think this. Because I know you are probably a great person. You seem like you are. Something about how nice you feel, makes my mind riot in believing. But the glass of wine, and the gentle rhymic cracle of the fire humming through the air, and the strong arms coiling me tighter, turns off my fighting reflex. And I start to sink instead.

I feel myself falling asleep, gentle sounds, feelings, smell around, and those words still on the tip of my thoughts, you repeating them over and over like a chant to me as I drift down lower and lower. And I am going down, till i find am in water with seaweed in my mouth and hair and I’m spitting it out, salt. And looking about.
Bluish water, pebbles underfoot, and watery flowy plants.

And then I rise a moment later, and I pull up out of it, and wake up back in the apartment. And you are gone. I put on my flip flops and wander out into the apartment tentatively looking around. But I am met with empty corners instead. I am going outside without a thought on it, the feel of the cold air, and smell of the smog both hitting me at once, the loud honking and engines on the side of me. People walk and push past me, and look angrily at me cause I won’t get out of their way. And I walk like this. In this haze. Where did you go. I keep looking as if on a beach, if I keep at it I will find it. The treasure with golden blocks inside.

But there the streets wind like a maze that I am too tired to pursue. And so I sit on a bench next to a man rolling a cigarette. I put my head in my hands and I cry. I wanted so much for that dream to be true.



The New and Old World

15,000 people in a line. The end of the world is coming today, watch out for it. He came to the front past all those people. He had on a sewn red cape hand stiched and tattered. He walked past them all. There was a giant boulder that went up a hundred miles in to the atmosphere making everyone feel like pale ants to it. On the other side was the new world. It glowed soft and light with its promises.

But no matter how great it seemed I had made a promise to keep on suffering in this world and so I stayed here with the criminals and the thieves and the people who would eat my bones like the vultures in a heart beat. And my one true love went on to the other side.  Her pink skirt blowing in the wind as she crossed the barrier and she looked back, searching.

And as I skulked the black streets now empty and abandoned. They had left it a ghost town and ready to try a new. I sit in the shadows. My knees bent and on my but rests on rusted metal and weathered cardboard. A man, homeless looking dirty face laying on the ground with a newspaper on his face is there.

Why aren’t you in the new world? I ask.

Where would I go, everything I ever loved was here and now that’s gone and all I have left are my memories.

Sometimes you have to do something different to be whole. What’s your name?

Albert. I am actually a scientist. I was one of the ones that allowed the seed to grow.

You look awful though. You should be thrilled.

No not really.

But humanity has a new start.

Do you think they deserve it? his body was contorted with tension.

No I guess no one deserves it but.

They trashed this place and when they new they were going into Eden they trashed it even harder. The fuckers don’t care. None of them really care.

But I thought you liked them, the people who became the scientists gave up their lives for them.

Well I changed my mind. I used to think it was great that it was the government that had caused everythign to be so fouled up and if we could just get them out of the picture everyones problems would be solved. It wasn’t till it was too late to stop it that I realized it is the people themselves that are mad, that are destructive. Every step of the way people bitterly moaned if only if only then it would have been different. While all the while going along with every bad article, that while other men suffered it was so convienent always to just not look. During the riots I saw man’s true face and I turned away. And that is why I will never go. I will never leave this place that so many are so willing to forget. What about you. Why are you here?

My wife went. She is so beautiful. But she never loved me. She married me anyway. I am not sure why. And she begged me to go. But for me this was my way out of it.

Did you love her?

So much I couldn’t bare it, everyday I saw her it tore me up with joy and passion, but when I looked in her eyes I knew she was only pretending. I’d never have had the strength to leave her any other way. And besides maybe it won’t be so bad.

Heh the homeless man said.  In a way that said don’t count on it.