FROM OVER HERE YOU LOOK LIKE AN ANSWER

Originally published in Counterexample Poetics, August 2015; reprinted with permission

I WANTED YOU TO LOVE ME!  I shouted from my side of the canyon. HOW THE HELL DO I GET OUT OF HERE!  you yelled back from yours. THAT’S NOT WHAT WE’RE HERE TO TALK ABOUT!  I yelled even backer. You squinted to your left and right in a hopeless oscillation, cupped your hands around your mouth. THIS ISN’T FUNNY, I’M GOING TO MISS MY TRAIN! 

Nothing was going as planned. I was beginning to think this great big groaning valley wasn’t such a good idea after all. COME ON, you pleaded, I’M GETTING SAND IN MY CONTACTS. IS THIS A MONEY THING?  A small creature nipped at my toes. I wished I could sink into the dry dead land. I DON’T NEED YOUR HELP!  I screamed, desperately, trying to be straight-spined and compelling. Instead the wind whipped half my words from my mouth, so all you got was the echo of me shouting, NEED HELP! NEED YOUR HELP! 

On the opposite crest of the divide you began pacing and wringing your hands. I’VE FORGOTTEN HOW TO WALK SIDE BY SIDE, I shouted across at you. I’M AFRAID OF THE DARK AGAIN. I held up one stubby fist and shook it a little, so you would notice. I THINK MY BODY IS FALLING TO PIECES. I was starting to feel light-headed. My knees trembled, making loose hollow sounds like maracas. The unrelenting chasm finally spit up the other half of my outburst and began calling out, DON’T! DON’T! DON’T!  It made my squeaky voice sound like a granite mountain. You sank to your knees in the far across dust and started to cry.