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

waysides 1 2nd ed.