When I was a kid,
I lived in a small house in a closed neighborhood,
the house was on half an acre.
across the street there were some woods filled with tall trees-
as far as the eye could see.
even after I climbed to the very top of my favorite tree in my back yard,
I still couldn’t see an end to those trees.
late at night, coming home from a store that seemed a million miles from home,
I would stare out of the car window
and see tiny rain drops streaking,
and blurring, red, lights blinking,
of radio towers standing tall in the distance.
I remember the sun setting, all purple and yellow,
behind that endless field of power poles,
stretching off into the distance between great rows of trees-
far off into the yellowish horizon;
that’s how I imagined wheat fields would look.
I had a cool, bright-green shirt when I was a kid,
it had batman crashing through a brick wall.
The bricks were green, and the rendering of batman-
was a fierce and almost frightening depiction;
it made me imagine surrealistic fantasies:
infinitely-high red, brick walls covered by a stormy sky - cut by lightning.
A chain-link fence was being climbed over, a hero was escaping, fighting,
struggling against the dark.
I remember I had nightmares about my backyard,
I would sit on the couch and look through the sliding glass door,
I would wait, and wait until I heard it:
They hailed from the darkness of my backyard,
not from the forest across the street.
I had never seen a wolf.
I remember episodes about giant bats, and scarecrows,
and I remember the one about the invisible man, and Jonah Hex.
When we went to Melbourne, I would watch the sun beating on the ground,
Later it would slowly start going down,
It would change the sky,
and I swear the sky was more beautiful when I was a kid.