Suddenly you are a cartoon

Suddenly you are

A cartoon.

A moment ago

You were as serious as the species gets,

Brooding,

A bit dangerous.

Now you are little more

Than a stick figure

Gesticulating stiffly,

Alone and ridiculous

On a wavy horizon line.

People come into the frame.

Of course

They are

Who they always are,

These regular folks.

They regard you

With that mixture of

Awe, Amusement, Anger and Alarm

That comes over us

When only words beginning with A’s

Will stop the pounding

In your head.

“Ha ha hee hee!”

Read the words

In the thought balloon.

Some people avert their eyes,

Embarrassed to intrude on you this way.

The horizon line

Grabs wildly at their ankles.

But most of them

-- are they morbid types or voyeurs or what?

-- they hang around to see what dirt

Will reveal itself

In the air shaking like jello above your head.

I am one of them, I admit,

Even if I am the one who drew you this way.

Who knows why?

But we expect fireworks

From you of all people.

 

We want a mandala of obscene exclamation points

And lines of filthy typographical symbols

To explode from you

As you jump up and down on the dented world.

We expect the worst of you, old boy,

A real show.

You won’t disappoint us now

Will you?

We laugh and laugh

When gobs of sweat finally

Radiate from your silly exposure.

We applaud

The awkward dance

Of your darkest memories,

Your best lies and most splendid treasons.

Take comfort, my friend,

You are in the Basic Place.

Make yourself at home.

Hung out to dry

On the clothesline of the horizon,

You are as transparent now

As we ever get,

Real and comical as all get-out,

Brain-dead and elemental as sunlight.

You are recovering from yourself now

And every other

Little thing.

                                              -- Mexico City, 4 July 1998