the thought comes all at once or not at all
a memory of something I couldn't name if you asked me
I'm in the zoo, California
my nose is sunburned
I'm walking through corridors of land-marked heavy handed people
as I coast through all the exhibits of animals
I spend too much time looking at the barefoot lion in his melancholic stare and I recognize something in it
he knows me through the crowd, there's a link there that I cannot grasp
not then, not right away but it comes years later in a bad acid trip I spend my whole life trying to forget
I can tell there's fear in his cage and the flies won't stop pestering
I feel sick and keep walking never looking back as the screams of awe and amazement come from behind me
I was once in terra firma too
the boy with the long jaw and the empty library after school that had only the sound of books waiting to be opened
collecting dust among with them, but also gathering knowledge that I was unable to use because I wasn't smart enough
there's a bubble in my brain where it has shoveled all the facts I am able to keep unlike friends or attention
i was always losing everyone in grocery aisles, amusement park parking lots and train stations
the unbearable part was how easy it was
how gently things shifted and sank
there was a dog in our neighborhood that was always tied to a leash never leaving the front yard as if it was part of the lawn decoration
it was always angry and the sign above the fence said beware
until one day it wasn't outside anymore, the noise had stopped and settled leaving it's owner to pack it's things and go
when I asked what had happened he said it had bit him when untying him from his post, shock and in pain he was unable to chase after him
years later in a different city with a different name, I swore I saw that same dog in the street with a woman walking beside him but he wasn't angry, the eyes were soft and the growl had turned into a delicate yip
I'd like to think he was happy
I'd like to think that there are always ways out of the leash