by Gary Lehmann
I was asleep when the bus hit the wall on the overpass and tumbled,
God I have no idea how far down slowly rotating up side down.
I looked out of the window and saw the pavement rushing toward me.
What did it feel like? Well, it felt like I was suddenly trapped
inside a Jackson Pollack dry point etching, c. 1944, with all sorts
of black figures jumbled in a twirl of heads and arms thrown into free fall.
In one terrible moment, I suddenly realized that I was going to die.
Then I had a sense of resolution and peace, even though I was going to die.
Then I felt like I was being compacted into a ball of bones and blood.
What? No I haven’t been seen by my trauma counselor yet.
Do you think I’m all right? Yes, I do feel different. I suddenly have
a need to articulate the darker side of post-war abstract expressionism.
I hope Coach doesn’t find out.
Twice nominated for the Pushcart Prize, Gary Lehmann’s poetry and prose is published in literary and popular journals all over the world, over 100 publications per year. His most recent book is Public Lives and Private Secrets [Foothills Publishing, 2005]. Look for his forthcoming book entitled American Sponsored Torture [FootHills Publishing] in May 2007. Visit his website at www.garylehmann.blogspot.com.
