Deep breathing,
Swirls and spirals of
Smoke and chatter and laughing.
Out of the whiteness that was, appears
A black man, a black wanderer, dripping in heat,
Where he wanders? Why he wanders? Asks his footsteps.
Winding through the brutal openness, he slits the white mirage.
Heads turn, attention turns, eyes turn, interpretations settle, as he
As he succeeds to dilute his mystery into the black body, roaring engine.
Distance, electronics, and glass are comforters, fictionalizers. The black dream
The black dream lingers, crawling across the glazed front of the cornea, frontal lobes.
Contact.
The distance, gone, the electronics sputter, the glass shatters. Contact, horror. Power.
Questions. Requests. Answers, and clean explanations. Warnings. And then
Slumber, and a return to the white blanket, the white shades, the white
The white thoughts. Absence doesn't abolish the previous present,
But like a defunct ink pen, the black puddles, disappear as
As quickly as the time the author cycles for a pure, new,
As quickly as the time the author cycles for a new
White leaf of stationary.
Stationary.
Exhale.
"Heatwave Crackhead" 2010, Wanhoo
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