Parnassus - Sharon Davie

[Lawrence Robinson]

Parnassus

And so she begins
to tell me about her son, he is locked inside
Langley Porter, I say I see, 
and I do, that’s where I spend three hours 
every day now with my husband,
up five flights, then left
down the long dark hall, then pushing 
the let me in button that unlocks, oh so briefly,
the heavy vacuum sealed door, the heaviest door
in the universe.  

Anyway, her son squeaks, she tells me, believing
he is temporarily a giant mouse. I say how
strange, not that he would squeak, but that
my husband is afraid of a giant mouse who
follows him around.  Who would think
we have so much in common?

Later I am inside too, locked in, sitting with my husband 
at the long faux-wood table. It’s dinner time at the crazy house
and a large black man stands up and recites the words
of Martin Luther King
about the arc of justice, it bends, it reaches us. 
I am pleased to hear it. 
He speaks the beautiful words
louder and louder, though, until the room
is filled right up to the breaking point 
with sound. There is nothing else. 
A blue smocked attendant steps up
Okay, George, now that’s enough, and leads him away.
Where does he go, George, with his lovely voice, with
the words that carry him through his day?

Meanwhile it is time for me to go. I turn
to say goodbye to my sweetheart and 
I see he is walking toward the exit,
carrying a brown paper bag
with all his current possessions: underwear, socks, shoes, 
shirts, jeans. He beats me to the underworld door
and waits patiently there for me,
the top of the wrinkled brown bag 
rolled down and clutched tight by his precious hands. 
The attendant winks at me, says I’ll distract him,
and I feel my heart break. You may say it’s a metaphor

But I feel the strength of the blow,
the fracture, the broken pieces, the shards
that are all that is left now. But that’s not true,
is it? Not true.
There is love and pain, two things we all share. 
They come to every one of us as a pair, 
like socks, like shoes, like hands and feet, 
like this man I married and me. 

Now when he is distracted, my betrayal is complete:
The door is quickly opened for me by an invisible Cerberus,
that wily dog who guards the underworld
and I am free. 
Until tomorrow, when I’ll drive down the 101 to Highway 9, then climb 
to Parnassus
and start all over again.
Starbucks, Ellie, giant Mouse, George, you have your own 
cast of characters, I know, and the universe you unlock
is your own. You have your own door that you 
don’t want to open, but when you do, 
love and pain are waiting for you 
on the threshold.
There’s nothing to it. Welcome them in.

	- Sharon Davie

-------------- next part --------------
An HTML attachment was scrubbed...
URL: <http://lists.sonic.net/pipermail/poetrylovers/attachments/20250609/e5ac6e96/attachment.htm>