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Chunky Red Memory
by Eric Hinkleon my left arm,
near the elbow,
deep in the forest
of brown,
matching the freckle
nextdoor,
there is a minute blue dot,
as bright blue as it was
ten years ago
when I got it.
6th grade. social studies.
sitting next to Nate.
that stupid sumbitch
stabs me in the goddamn arm
with a yellow colored pencil.
for no good reason
whatsodamnever.
I look down at it,
light thin red water
cascading down my arm
to my shaking finger tips.
a small bloodfall two, three
inches wide,
like one of those cheesy, misty
faux mountain waterfalls
in a granny gift shop
in the mall.
I am paralyzed by "what the
fuck. what the
fuck fuck, what the
fuck."
sitting, staring helplessly
at my red desk,
slippery when wet.
someone's up and back
with paper towel, soaking
it all up, everything but
my horror.
someone's saying, "I'm
sorry, I'm sorry Eric I'm
sorry."
somehow I snap to,
stand up quickly and
zombie up to the front
of the room where I
pass out.
I'm up a moment later,
on my feet,
and then I'm wobbling over
to a group of desks
which I cover with fresh
lunch chunks.
and that's all I remember about that. 01/02/2009 Author's Note: starting the year off with wonderfantabulous nostalgia.
Posted on 01/02/2009
Copyright © 2024 Eric Hinkle
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Scott Utley on 01/02/09 at 08:08 PM I had similar experiences - well - maybe I didn't but that was the line that came forth from my cyber quill - i onced learned voo doo and then found out that voo doo was love spelled upside down - i like this piece - no - i LIKE i LOVE this for it's timeless humanity - and its ability to stop me in my tracks and prodding me to think and post - (all which I usually reserve - the time it takes anyway - for the very last moments of my life where I sit down and tell god what mistakes he's made and if he's not up to it - i am a punk tenement slum poverty stricken village idiot with a knack for telling the truth that all agree is the truth when I speak it - when I am not on acid. (Tim Leary left me some score and as a new age scientest I an sacrificing my life to elucidate the unknow fact that many drug/alchohol people have to disease at all - they just like getting high - that's it - and can one blame them when this nation is sucking on dunce drops in place of brain gravey (who knows)
PS If a ragamuffin self-talker asked you for a dime - and you didn't feel generous at that monet - when u later find out that the man was Jesus &just passing through on his way to my place for a lasting supper and maybe shoot some pool. |
| Posted by Scott Utley on 01/02/09 at 08:10 PM would you think I was crazy
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