Marionette Man

[PRichardParticipant 206]

They took a paradise. A land of dreams
To feel safe. As we walk,
I wrapped them wrist to wrist
A knot for each appendage, attached strings

I am taken for a stroll
Tugged down the sidewalk
Bike lane to driveway
Cross streets past stop signs

Once we swear we had seen
The gentleman carrying a second coat
Eyes grow darting as the crowds parted
Become an aggressor set to give chase

Even a group to wish well of their own
They once supported like minds
Built a corner stone, turned over
Stripped of meaning and goals to save face

We turn the corner
A boy kicking a ball
Now scolded, hands in his pockets
Head down on a shoulder

I do not want to keep walking
Less ties break, the pace is kept
Fore stand too long and threaten a space
We speed up and see water proof mascara

The makeup is timeless it does not age
A fierce look no tears could carry away

A mother that doted now grasping purse strings
We must look away or else answer questions

Unsettled, I close my eyes and dare veer from the path

I turn left as I duck down an alley
People shout “Sir, it’s dark that’s not the right way!”

It’s dingy, it smells but I do not bump shoulders
Least my soles seem more absorbent

I feel the pull, edging me forward
Left to right, an unfamiliar sway
As I stop to judge myself outside the view of others
A strand catches the light, a play of the colors

I see a thin line that I do not have to tread
From my wrist it seems my jacket loses threads
As it pulls, I sway, one step after another
A second line twitches from my right shoulder

They’re all over
I’m caught, and I cannot move backward for there are many
Head to toe, taught

And where would I go?
But forward.
The lines give as they pull
A natural sway, to and fro

Could a man give up such a familiar rhythm?
As I’m pulled left front forward
I feel no give.
Not in years.
Not an ounce.
What could they take with no give?

A tear falls from the corner of my view
Onto a cracked and petrified cheekbone

I know what I must do. I rip each one
And with each pull from my collar, my shirt tears
My shoes are lost

I rip away the lines that would vibrate
When another is close
If beauty gave it a tug, I’d feel nothing
Cursed alone by my own will to wear
No more than the shame as my status is stripped

But I’m free, from where I stood
And, I am still.
To the judging gazes of the crowd
That found there way to this alley
And gaze upon a boy in tatters
But I tell you,

I am still.

They threaten to walk
As their words grow apart
And never look back
They tug at those that would stagger
Left, to right as they must

But I am still.
Still, to beg of one more sin

My toes press … then heel

What if I walk backwards?

If what you are doing is working, do not change a thing.

[Author]

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