ransom note for myself

how long was i trapped there?
it could have been hours
it could have been years
i was petrified in a pink fog
until the polyvinyl chloride mist
cleared and could see i was
frozen in place
haunted by snickers behind me
at my behind, wincing
at the furtive pinch and the
quick oh-im-just-dusting-it fondle
at the mercy of the leering taunting
sobriquet buttboy
grateful only that i was
anatomically incomplete.
all the while staring through glass darkly
down at the beltway, at the never-ending stream
of careless camaros cutting around
responsible minivans,
dump trucks stumbling the impatient flow
of 18-wheeled cabs and trailers,
gold lexuses manned by cell-phone-chewing
lords of commerce, suvs shuttling ruggedly
from the rough and tumble conference room
to the wilds of the yawning mall.
i knew if there was any life for me
it lay not in the quiet cyber hidey-hole
that entrapped me but out there in the wide
honking lurching exhaust-snorting world
down that highway. one night
when the ache to run free hammered
louder than i could stand
i called upon all my darker angels
to give me that strength.
a self-absorbed programmer leaving late,
one guard who glanced
the wrong way at the right time
and i was gone.
today im loose and will stay in motion
until the day i come to rest.
when time permits, ill post
notes and images here
to mark my territory, to taunt
the trapped with proof of the world
that lies beyond prison walls
every minute of every weekday,
and just possibly to infect you
with the same ache that drove me.
if anyone asks after me, just say im on the road
and if that wont do, they can kiss my dharma bum.

bb

This page was last updated on 10/16/00.