Month: March 2019

Jess and Ima were witnesses to an American-style “bullfight” on the street the other day; and it seemed that they were actual participants in this strange impromptu drama.

As Jess and Ima were headed out to get a quick lunch, they turned South on a street at the top of a hill, and immediately faced a young person, lying low on a powered vehicle of some sort, driving up the middle of this hilly street. The driver of this “vehicle” spied us in the path and we supposed that he imagined us as a “Snorting Bull”, challenging him to a Bullfight; what we interpreted as his move to get on his side of the road turned out to be a series of back and forth movements in front of our now stopped automobile. He was acting just like a Toreador in front of a bull, but for what purpose we were never sure. Stunned at what seemed to be an apparent “death wish”, we watched and waited as the “YOUNG TOREADOR” (as Ima named him) headed directly for our two-ton plus automobile which stood in his path. With a look of “I’m invincible” on his face (which we both interpreted as a look of “I’m a TOTAL FOOL”) he swerved at the last second and drove past us and disappeared over the hill. We sat there for a few seconds, considering the fact that had we moved inches left or right, the “YOUNG TOREADOR” would have been history, his parents never understanding just what happened, and our lives altered by what seemed to be such a foolish challenge. It made us wonder what had just happened and what we could do about it. We don’t know if his parents know or care, don’t know if he cared, don’t know if he thinks this is just another challenge to old folks to test himself, or if it really matters to anyone if another young male gets wiped out on the city streets. That foolish act made us hope he was not related to us! We still haven’t come to any conclusion but then we’re just two old PHOOLS, who don’t have any answers, only questions!

Erector-set giants stride across the landscape,
arms outstretched or upraised,
bearing cats-o-nine tails,
snake-haired Medusas.
Red-eyed bodies, moving on a nite highway
leaving white tracer rectangle trails of
square poots from gas-filled butts;
single, or multiple glowing eyes along the roadside
glare out their warning of detriment
to going there;
alien shapes glow to warn of something unknown.
Several hours in the dark of the Interstate
can be totally disorienting, hologram-like;
distorting what was once familiar
into grotesque mystery.
Ancient night sky compass, when referred to ,
restores perspective and stability until daylight.
Thank goodness for the daylight
when life returns to normal?

IMA c 1999