A Poem for National Poetry Month: With the Lame Man, One

With the Lame Man, One

Written on April 14, 2017, to celebrate National Poetry Month, this piece is an experimental form about an attempted assassination, perhaps influenced by the sound of the old television series of Dune playing in the background—but only a little.

“Walk,” the lame man said,

and I obeyed.

I took

first one step

and then another.

Behind me, I heard him whisper,

“Run.”

“Run,” he said,

and I obeyed.

I sped

my steps,

each one falling faster

than the one that went before.

“Run!” he said,

when I hesitated.

“Run!”

And his voice compelled me,

each stride driven by its sound,

when I wanted nothing more

than to turn back,

to return

and rescue him.

“Run!”

His words roared through me,

and I obeyed,

their compulsion too strong,

unexpected,

an order

that settled inside my head

and overrode my mind.

And then,

when I felt that all was lost,

that I had lost him,

and my heart,

he said,

“Stop,”

and I obeyed,

mid-stride,

sliding to a halt,

his hand on my arm,

though I had left him,

far behind,

as the roof caved in,

the room

exploded.

Yet, here we stood,

together,

his hand on my shoulder,

me turning into his arms.

Safe.

Safe as the fury flew around us,

took the door from its hinges,

the walls from their foundations,

opened

our rooms

to the sky,

while we stood firm,

together,

an island of peace in the maelstrom,

as we

had stood before,

when others had tried

to take our lives.

“Stay,” I said,

and he obeyed,

his arms around me,

as I demanded,

our heads bowed,

our thoughts entwined,

our minds hunting the origin

of our assassin.

This time,

we would find them,

reverse the maelstrom,

send it swirling through

their treach’rous hearts

tearing them asunder,

sending them racing

for their lives,

in futility,

for we were one,

our minds now joined,

one thought:

Run!