sculptor unknown: minneapolis
by Charles P. Ries
Elaine took me to her German psychic,
as expected, she saw everything.
Our bad days and our glories.
The history of our times and species;
we have been together
Realizing how long I have been with Elaine
made me feel tired – I didn’t realize we’d been
working things out for over 400 years.
That’s a long time to accommodate a sentient being,
I don’t care what form I was in; me as:
Her hair stylist
Gerta saw it all against her inner astral cineplex.
I didn’t know I was once a charming pistol packing pescalero
a handsome Mexican bandit who charmed Elaine
(in an earlier even more succulent form)
to indulge my desires.
Irresistible under a vast pecan tree.
My sombrero tossed casually to the side
The Milky Way strung over our heads.
I pick the flower she willingly offers me.
We melt into the warm night – two sentient beings
as happy as two sentient beings could ever be.
She, the sheriff’s daughter
virgin, sixteen, flawless
filled with secret flames
Me, hanging from a pecan tree
limp, twitching, forlorn
looking a bit bewildered
Too many lives to hold in one small boat.
Yet on we sail, east to paradise
fighting our way toward enlightenment,
the only exit strategy
for two weary souls.
~ first published in The Café Review