A WALK ON THE WAYNE SIDE (WITH AUDIO)
A WALK ON THE WAYNE SIDE
(subject: an alley and parking lot
beneath my apartment in Feb ‘10)
I exit down
The long brown stair.
Dust and old paint
Are the only fragrances.
Last week’s heady aroma
Of dead mouse
Is merely a faded memory.
Occasionally rips
Like torn crate board
Shatter the stillness
As my shoe heels catch
In the carpet holes
That hide
Like under-bed monsters
On the vertical planes of the steps.
Weak sunlight
From a cloudy February sky
Peeks through
The scallop shell crystal glass
Of the safety door,
Sprinkling the creamy hall walls
And crooked crumbly ceiling tiles
With faint triangular prisms.
I open the door
And step out into the alley.
Where are the beautiful
Snowy Christmas Card vistas?
The white flakey blanket
That covers the parking lot
Is more like heaps of Celtic salt
Around Le Brea tar pits.
Whether it is the warmth of the sun
Or salt doing its municipal duties.
The result is a series
Of ebony pools
Garnished with swirling
Kaleidoscope rainbows.
Where the asphalt is bare
It looks like dark honey
Spread too thickly
Over burnt toast.
I walk into the crisp air,
Blinking momentarily
As clouds flee to a different town.
Softly, carefully, I tread
The icy ruts of the one way street,
Long vertical piano keys–
Black ice and soiled lacy snow–
That snake into the intersecting avenue.
Frozen tire tracks
And hob knobbed boot prints
From another pair of shoes,
Like fossil imprints stamped in rock,
Show me the way.
Sand blasted snow dunes,
Sprinkled with garbage
and cigarette butts,
Grow slowly
Ever so slowly,
Smaller.
Faintly,
So very faintly,
I hear the whispering,
Chuckle of tiny silted streams of water
Flowing beneath my brittle steps.
Splash crunch.
Splash crunch.
And away I go
To where the water gathers,
And the road begins.
And away I go
To where the water gathers
And spring groans for release.
And away I go
And back I come
While spring still groans
For liberation.
Wayne O’Conner 2/10 FOR TLLPC