Parallel Walks
A crisis that brought the great charioteer back
I walk on the street having a sea-storm happening in my mind;
I fight with sharks that have the faces of three people I know.
The sound of the turbulent waters blurs my thinking.
A giant sea-shell is coming towards me.
I see it as a big mouth that wants to swallow me.
I try to run, feeling the resistance of the angry water.
I smell its salty aroma.
How do I smell since my head is under the surface?
I feel the heaviness of my wet clothes.
I step on something sharp.
My scream transmits the pain and the anger of the
moment to the whole ocean. I bring my foot near my face
to see the trauma; a thin red river follows my big toe’s movement.
I look down to see what cut me; a glass. A broken bottle.
Who throws garbage in my dark sea-bottom?
I keep walking — literally on the road and mentally in the sea — .
I hear the echo of the words somebody said to me a few hours ago,
and an angry octopus shows up from nowhere;
I struggle to detach its…
