Father Figure

The woman to my left leans over and pours beer into a passed out man’s mouth. Her bathing suit has dislodged and her right tit and long ugly nipple hang like a swollen udder. The man to my right is so sweaty, so hairy– pinching his baby’s bottom so hard that he brings about tears, all the while reading an article about Hitler’s childhood in Fascism Monthly. I know that this is America, I can see the Cyclone and Coca-Cola billboards from even here. And for the twenty minutes that Jenny’s been asleep on my behind, I have not dared to move a muscle for fear that he’ll notice my stare. His arms are pure muscle as he lifts his whole body from the ground with only those biceps, repeatedly raising himself up and down. I should instead stare at that child that just lost his balloon, or these five buffoons who pose over and over again for the camera, or even at the trash, orange peels and crackerjack cartons. I was captain of the football team. Jenny and I homecoming queen and king. But for him to raise off the sand, then return down, and for me to feel the weight of his body on mine, the sweat and thin hairs of his chest, would be a sin. Jenny has talked of marriage.

Turkoman Prisoner, 1st Half the 17th Century
-After the painting by Isfahan

The top of the Y of the palahang might be the cradle for my neck. My wrist might be strapped to the bottom and a board might be nailed to it in place. I may be made to sit on my knees and my goatee may be in great need of a trim. But it’s my Grandfather’s saying—Happy is the prisoner who has someone to come rescue him—that’s responsible for the expression on my face.

Powerline Trail, Ironwood, Az., 2004
-after the photograph by Delilah Montoya

The light to the left is brilliant. There is none ten paces to the right. Clouds are density. And straight ahead, down the rutted road, the light and shadow wrestle. Plastic water jugs roll over the sand like tumbleweed. The manzanita and agave to each side could care less. So too with the havalinas in the foothills. One side is the other, the other is home.