The Terrorist Within

Running along a gossamer high wire

of thought and memory

tiny spiders spin their webs

between my fingers and toes

tiny bugs invading a space

that they don't know

is not their own

Hands of clocks rewinding

reminding me of yesteryear

Basements and shorelines

thick with glass and hypodermic needles

dismayed at the sight of another sunset

perplexed at the end of another very long

very short

day

The highest chain link fence

around a baseball field

"Go." She said. "We will be there soon."

They never were there soon.

"Stay." She said.

"I will be there soon." I said.

I was never there soon.

Stripped down to my barest soul

walking along that mountain ridge

so long in my own vision

the Terrorist in my mind saying

"Go. I will be there soon."

"Stay. You were supposed to stay."

"Quiet. Stop it. There is no place for you here."

Everything has a moment. A meaning.

A deep dark track that we ride over and over

down into the recesses that bring us back around.

Don't want to stop there at the baseball field

or the lake

or the basement

because then the Terrorist loves it once more

He laughs so hard He spits in my face

He coughs and I hear my fathers cancer

He smiles and I see the misplaced gravity of ulterior motives

He whispers and I hear the message loud and clear