Tuesday 5.17.11 Walking

Sense One: Touch

Foot over foot stumble with

gravel uneven beneath feet

touching acrylic soles suffocated

by cotton fibers

this is walking

The uncomfortable raw rubbing

of my thighs as I place foot

in front of foot skin collide

with gelatinous layer of fat

beneath skin

Wind whipping across ears

filled with cotton wool and

I place foot in front of foot

over uneven surfaces

pavement disappearing

into gravel

a litany of textures beneath

my thin soles sites me in

only this place where gravel is

shaped like devils tears

and just as red.

Sense Two: Smell

There's this place down the road

using some kind of wood

that smells like holidays in France on the cheap

a barbeque smell

searing animal flesh to a charcoal grill

My Dad holding a Kronenbourg

with a case in the fridge

of the caravan we're renting

I slept on the couch

My brother claimed the room

two beds pushed together each

night and coming apart by the morning

Someone nearby is smoking and

fags make me think of my mother

sitting in the kitchen endlessly

chainsmoking cigarette after

cigarette finally I have an answer

for why I was born pre-term

I asked her to quit so many times

My three brothers smoke

a terrible gift passed down

to unthinking children

Sense Three: Hearing

air conditioner whining clicking on

clicking off and still whining from across

the street tap tap tapping of heels clicking

a woman late for work and jogging in inappropriate shoes

across the parking lot asphalt

car door slamming ignition firing engine starting to turn over and over and over

while the wind whistles down the street and children are playing

they should be at school? Their parents not watching as they splash in the pool

a woman was shot here at this complex, a shot rang out in the night

but I didn't hear it then, even though I hear it now

someone is humming as they clank open their mailbox

dry metal chafing and creaking

burned brittle by the desert sun

a startled wren flies out of its hole and admonishes me from the safety of the telegraph pole

go away it seems to chirp bobbing its head up and down

it rustles its wings and flaps further away

while I walk silently on.