(Barking Wall, from The Barking Wall, 2010-2011)
The demons say.
The dogs down the way bark.
I close my eyes, I don't care (keep telling myself), I don't care.
I walk further, I even disappear. A small grin covers my face, I can't be seen, but this is what's happening. My blood boils, but I am not angry. I usher in a new way. My steps seem to float. The ground is no longer so harsh on my feet, no sudden stop, it gives (the ground that is), I feel my foot go right through the ground and yet I am still on the surface. My pace turns into a run, goddamn I hate text messages. I throw my cellphone. It makes a loud and satisfying crash, maybe the battery exploded, maybe I'll never have to carry a conversation that way anymore. (I whisper to myself, anymore, no more, fuck that, goddamn, it's over, it's not you it's me, I can't stand it (in a softer whisper I say fuck-fuck-fuck-fuck)).
This place is dark, it feels warm, warm enough to go without clothes, but hot enough not to sweat. In fact, it is the same consistency as jumping into really warm water, where your body doesn't feel any shock of entering into a physically different realm. The air fits to your skin here, your holler is muted and yet it holds an echo. This is perfect reverb. I clap my hands and say yeah, no one but me can hear this. I start talking to myself as if there were another person on the other side of the conversation. It feels good. I look up to the surface, I see the moon, it is full, it dances in ripples, I hold this image in my mind, I'm carrying it to the house full of memories like this one, it is falling apart, the paint chips, and the pillars are turning to salt grain. I see faces in this house, none of which I can remember, I feel warm, but strange (a sadness grows in my belly), I want to hold all their hands but I only have two to give. I try to speak to them, to tell them how they make me feel, but my voice only belongs to me. My eyes roll back, and I feel a weight grow in my chest. I have no words here, I say fuck fuck fuck, goddamn goddamn more, my flesh is falling apart, my sweat fills my clothes with a musky rage.
A rip, a lightning bolt, a tornado, a tsunami, and an earth quake tare this house apart. All I can see is a face, she isn't laughing, she isn't even looking at me cry, watching the house of all my greatest hits sink into a well of absolute darkness. This isn't fair I yell, only I can hear. This isn't your world, these aren't your memories, and yet my voice falls within shadow's reach. Not even all the words my mother told me not to say could save me now.
The world grows dark, and darker, then quieter, and quieter. The hum of a living earth below me now can be heard. I've never heard this before, but I always knew it was there. I look around in amazement, is there anyone to share this with I wonder. No, I am alone, this time my world has no man-made structures, just desert plants, it is barren, I know this place too well. This is the place I grew up in. This is where I was born, the person who I am now. I see my shadow stretch into the darkest corners (reaching into the deepest cracks). A negative sun rises in the sky.
I look into the dark well where all was lost, and I see a reflection. And though I see my face, it looks strange. It takes me a few minutes to realize it is me, perhaps what I look like to others. I am somehow separated from this face, I touch it, and without ripples or the glassy surface of water I feel skin. There is a charge to the touch, and I almost feel like falling into the pool but I hold myself together. The sky is now filling with a pink glow. The beating of my heart is audible, and I speak, and now it shoots out across this desert.
I can hear your voice, it guides me through all the shrubs and thorns. I close my eyes, and open them. The world is now full of light. I close and open them again, but this doesn't really change anything. I hold my breath, and I feel my feet lift from the ground. I start breathing from my ears like in that movie, Water World, and before I know what hit me I'm a freaking dolphin. I speak, but all of my words produce are a few cute chippy chips. I see your face, you don't recognize me, and I don't blame you, I'm a dolphin. I try to give you at least a wink, but dolphins can't wink, instead I just close both eyes, and I would smile, but my mouth is always smiling. I blow a few air bubbles your way, and I say, this will just have to do, it will just have to do.
We say our goodbyes in our own way. You're leaving, I'm leaving, you're a human, and I'm something else. In some climatic ending where two people, after experiencing this whole adventure, and lived to tell about it, part ways, taking to separate paths, and though we are going completely different directions, we both are walking to the dawning sun. This dawn on me, I never said told you...
(click click) BOOOOOOOM!
