Possum Trail

A possum is on my trail
it has me, running scared
'cause as I pass knocked over trash cans,
gutters filled with filth,
road killed critters
and places made of disgust
more possums fall into the ranks...
I know behind me, while making my way
past leafless trees,
the moon shines on pink eyes
following my smell
following my sound-
The clouds scud across the sky
not even the dank stench
of rotting vegetation
halts the sting of sweat dripping
into my eyes
can't cry
no wings, can't fly
spiders laughing
the webbing clinging to my face
My fear projects images
sound of possum breath behind me
branches have snakes with tongues
licking at me
a vicious water lizard
flies past my brain
around a thorn bush
stops to rest on a cows' glistening
white skull
then up again past a mosquito sump
to tell the possums I have taken
the trail to the left-
Air! oh air!
my lungs scream for more
the mildew odor tries to trick me,
to trick me into retching
a root snatches at my foot
mud spits to my face
heart: at max rate
adrenaline peaking out
muscles starting to burn out
joints swelling
bones begging
I look up to green moss, see the mist
clinging in droplets
raise up to lick the moisture
but the sounds, the sounds of the possums
eliminates my one joy this nite-
A road is crossed
a car spotted
two teenagers having sex
they see me
they see the possums
they lock the doors
refuse my screams for help
and go back to adolescent lust
(the radio pumping out retro-disco)
with a new horror
I claw my way up the road
thru a ditch, over a fence-
the possums pass the car
giving wide berth to the radials
They follow me
into the field
no trees, no bushes, no grass
nothing to hide the sight
of the possums when I glance back
But no, wait!
what are these hideous things
popping up in front of me?
with dark black eyes
speaking of wormy things
they bite at my shoes
a few are not lucky:
they get their heads crushed
from my treading by
there fellow gophers
fall upon the hapless ones
enjoy an orgy, cannibalistic feast
meat, blood, guts fling about
but the possums, so intent, too intent
do not stop
they follow me-
I cry to heaven
while skirting the shore of a marsh
fox and coyote snarl at me
then hide from the possums-
I know God can not help me
I fell no anger from this
no remorse
small bits of self pity, yes
but perhaps he shall see
his way to give me a chainsaw
when the final confrontation
between possums and I
comes to a head.
My mind snaps clear
with the sight of dead
carp and squaw fish
littering the surface of the water
I know mosquito larvae enjoy
existing amongst the carcases
a weasel makes a meal
of a rather large specimen of carp
watching me run by,watching possums run by-
The hour, I don't know
which day? late at night, early morning?
The moon rides low now
perched above the bald lifeless hills
smugly observing
making bets
setting odds
with the stars.
And I look up to the stars for help
but they exist far away in a frozen sky
mutely watching
the attitude they showed me
was so cold it would have frozen tears to my cheeks
the sorrow swept over me so complete
that all I could do was refuse to cry
and let the frost pass thru me
as if
I were
a sieve-
How long has this race been?
this hunt?
or purge..?
now my legs numbly carry me
I can run without feeling
the horror so complete it becomes my friend
sorrow, a pleasant lover
total abandonment, it is what I seek
The distance between my foe and myself
does not increase nor decrease
I bother not to turn my head
to monitor their progress
for my eyes are clouded
my pace I seek not to increase:
the blistered feet long ago soaked my shoes
with bold, and the pain
every second to every hour
a pleasant sensation
muscles knotted tight like the funeral drum
perhaps my bones are the sticks
the drummer strikes the head with.
Should I laugh? I think it has been years
since I laughed
a lifetime long ago my run was forced
a bats' sharp claws scratch my face
I sigh, shrug it off-
The moon is gone the sky seems strange
complete darkness is to be the rule
but things appear grey, stark, naked
a new chill drift by and the sky, by clicks, gets bright
The sun!yes,yes I remember it now
but at least an hour remains and an idea
a destruction
has begun to entertain my mind:
stop, lay down, let those beasts, those possums
take you
it would be so much easier
quit this race, it's obvious they never tire
and I am-
Half the sun now shows above the horizon
the mist is easily seen swirling around my moving legs
I fear it, but I chance a look behind me
something chokes in my throat
I almost stumble
the army of possums behind me
is larger then my imagination had built it-
a mutted scream is silenced half way out.
The ground increases in elevation
until it becomes a steep hill man made of rock
and sharp concrete blocks
weeds and stickers and thorns
grow where a grain of dirt happens to have landed
my ankles fail to negotiate this new terrain properly
twisting, turning, screaming
the possums have no trouble
on all fours they push on and on
I struggle, breath, move
I am at the steepest point
I can only move on hands and feet and knees
broken glass cuts my hands shreds my pants and knees
slides under my feet
pull,pull, I pull myself upwards
rocks bruise the skin
A familiar sound I hear but don't quite remember
a reflector finds my hand, I pull myself higher
I am at a freeway, it is crowded
morning rush hour
horns bite at my ears
I dash across with one last thought
breaks scream, acceleration is heard
ugly faces contort before me
the front of an economy car finds me
sends me sailing the ten feet
to where the guard rail separating north and south bound
stops me
a rib experiences the sensation of fracture
half laying half sitting
I watch the possums at the other side
victory on faces, they know my will is destroyed
I sit and stare, they move, lunge
but so do cars
bodies become compressed beneath tires- gore squirts
the road is splattered with possums
rear ranks continue to move forward
continue to go squish
vehicles slide on the slick goo
loose control, bounce off each other
one slides off the road, it explodes
the smoke tells me so
the suicide, the duty, continues-
a possum makes it to within three feet of me
its' jaws are open
drool dripping from yellowed teeth
I smell the stench of it, prepare for its' attack
but it explodes as a Mac truck
finds it unawares
a hunk of intestine splashes not five inches from my face.
I look and see that not one possum survives
they have all become victims of the road
of the tire
I look at a man drive by
he looks back
his hand goes up, middle finger high
mean faces stare back at me
cuss words, phrases of filth come from the cars
a school bus drives by
the children laugh, point, spit.
The sun shines now
I curl up against the concrete
and let it wash me.

end