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Open Poetry #36
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How Does One ...
| Open Poetry #36 |
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How Does One ... |
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Jaime Fradera Senior Member
since 2000-11-25
Posts 843Where no tyranny is tolerable |
How Does One ... I fall asleep and am transported to another world ... ... ... It is daylight and we are in class. We are told that, today, There will be another fire drill, Another test evacuation Of the building. To make this one more realistic, It will feature a simulated fire. A group of us goes around the building, Treating all the furniture and flammables With a liquid fire simulate, And everything is ready. The simulated fire starts in a closet. It quickly spreads through the huge complex. It roars and crackles angrily. It fills the air With acrid, stinging smoke. People are running round in panic, All previous instructions having been forgotten. But the fire isn't real. I have the job of "cleaning up" the fire. I do this by working A contraption like a walker, Speeding down a long, long hallway. But the fire and smoke are not real. They are just an effect Of the fire simulating chemical Boiling off into the air. Although things seem to be on fire, As with Moses and the Burning Bush, Nothing is consumed by the simulated flames. Everything is left undamaged. This product is great for Halloween, really cool for dramatic party effects, like you could take it to your office party, and set your friends, your boss, or whoever on fire! Or maybe play nasty tricks on them! The fire simulant Is so completely harmless That even children can play with it. I emerge from the burning building, now suddenly with Julia, And Join the crowd milling round outside. I'm looking forward to finally going home. I come to a large puddle of water Bubbling with simulated fire. Then I realize I'm not wearing shoes, So I just fly over it. Then I realize That I'm not wearing clothes either. And I could not have come to class that way. I don't know the area, And a man tells me which bus to take. I am finally going home. I get off the bus. And it is night. I recognize the old Familiar sidewalk and the drive, The odors of the Cuban restaurant Just next door. I ponder: how does one go to a restaurant without going to a restaurant? Then it slowly comes to me There is no restaurant near my house, That I don't live here at all, Maybe I once did ... sometime in the past ... I find the wooden handles Of long machetes set in the street. My travel cane is gone, So I pick up the knives to use instead. And it is night. And the rising wind Smells of winter storm. A man comes to inform me I have been spotted by a black gang. They saw me playing with the knives, And they are coming to fight. I don't stand a chance with them, Because suddenly the knives are gone. I get on the next bus Before the gang has time to react. The gang causes a vehicle To appear in front of the bus So the driver can't pull out. But he finally squeezes the bus around the obstacle. I hear the gang, jabbering and laughing. One of the gang is going to shoot me. I duck behind another passenger So the gang will shoot the passenger instead. But nothing happens, And the bus gets under way. I get off at my apartment. So glad to be finally home. Angie is there, With her grown daughter Olivia. As we talk, listening to music, I have to use the bathroom. It's in a kind of closet, set in a hole on the rickety wooded floor. Then I remember that mine doesn't have a hole like that. Olivia hugs and kisses me. Then it starts to dawn on me That Olivia is a child, That she isn't Angie's daughter, That I don't live with anybody, That this couldn't be my place at all; So politely I excuse myself And leave. And then I'm with Midnitesun. And I am telling her About the strange fire that does not burn, About the strange puddle, Boiling with burning water And seething with liquid fire. And I tell her about the strange knives, Of the gang attack that failed, Of finding other people at my place, Even though it really wasn't my place ... And she seems to understand ... I ponder: how does one catch fire without catching fire? How does one go to the bathroom without going to the bathroom? Did the ancient Greeks ever tackle such philosophical conundrums? You know, like, is the glass half empty, or half ... As a young toddler, (which was before I got to be an old toddler, before I grew to be a young child, which was before I got to be an older child, which was in turn, before I got to be a young adult, anyway, way back then. I had to go to the bathroom in bed! But since we never had a bed in the bathroom, what could one do? I ponder: ... do they have beds on the beach? And then I wake up ... |
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Midnitesun
since 2001-05-18
Posts 28647Gaia |
I'm grinning here, Jaime. But why is it, that I always understand? Did I tell you, that we had a fire drill for the residents two weeks ago? It was in the middle of the night, cold and rainy. But we didn't use any simulated phony smoke stuff, just set off an alarm by holding a lighter underneath a ceiling smoke detector. One of the residents laughed, one growled at me. LOL. |
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Jaime Fradera Senior Member
since 2000-11-25
Posts 843Where no tyranny is tolerable |
Midnitesun does understand everything! Remember "The Confines Of My heart?" :----) |
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