by: William Peters
(Dramatic poem)
I float under here and hear the town’s words
You talked about me.
Your voices are soothing to me now, your consonants rounded,
Fuzzy around the edges.
When I walked the streets in town you took in my high waisted pants
My cataract eyes, my teeth (did I put them in?), my hair nearly gone
My unsteady gate; my pauses.
No one bothered to ask my name any more
It is Avery. It was Avery. You know it now.
Your voices were sharp, commanding,
“Move it old man!” You thought I could not hear and
I played along.
Please do not feel guilty. I hold no grudges. I like it here.
Everything is smooth, I am youth now, fluid. My thoughts float by.
The river is dark, vast, and deep,
But sure of itself.
Commanding my direction,
Finally I have somewhere to go.
I will drift a while, you can join me here.
Awash in comfort, rocked in warmth.
Feelings are different in the underneath
They sluice, languid and silky
Gliding along my skin
Dip and sway, roll away.
Here beneath my shoulders aren’t rounded,
The burden of myself is lifted,
Carried away on the lulling current.
The sunlight glitters, filtered, refracted,
Even it can’t reach me here.
Oh you’ll all walk away,
I know that,
But knowing that won’t change me.
Eventually I’ll be a skeleton,
No flesh, just bones
Resting on the bottom,
The memory of me.
William Peters was born in Missippi but was raised for most of his life in Flagstaff, Arizona. As a result he is a lover of mountain bicycling, snowboarding, and most things outdoors. William is married to his wife, Melony, and has 3 children and a fourth on the way. He is in school with the hopes of becoming a mechanical engineer with a love for poetry reading on the side.