on 12th and L st in Washington DC
there's an alley that will make your bones jump
if you're high and running from the police for jaywalking
i usually love walking
but paranoia makes the world exciting, and beautiful
as i turn the corner, i'm safe for a little while
and then i stumble upon a neighborhood where even the children have practiced predator faces
i come to a watermelon house
"Enter me," in the voice of a bitch in heat
the doorway illuminates my thirst and as i walk through the threshold
i'm transformed into the perception of a once great homeless man
a pink and yellow pixie skipping on the dust falling from her hair moves toward me
she asks what i'm doing
i tell her i was telling the voices to shut up
the sound is a mixture of Brazilian congos and Beethoven's "Moonlight Sonata"
and it was everlasting
i ask her why she found that funny
but my inquiry finds no welcome in her mirth
i've never seen laughter grin at me quite so wickedly before
finally she ceases her melodic chatterings and moves within an inch of my face
the light from her eyes reflects off of my skin like moonshine leaving me intoxicated
. drunk and homeless . today is shaping up wonderfully .
she giggles again at my thoughts, her laughter changing tempo to match my slowed breathing
pointing to her heart, she whispers
"if you lived here, you'd be home"
never in my life have i felt so alone
as i did in that instance
my hat slid down my temple and into a pool of my own worshiping tears .
gideon Wildflower .