Ron Singer
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The Old Couple Flies in a Dream to the Still Red Desert
We fell asleep holding hands that night,
in bed, mind you, facing each other
side by side, my right hand atop your right.
That's how it was, make no mistake.
With our sleep masks on, mine red, yours black,
you, Liz, or Lizard, turned to Zorra;
I, Ron, Gordo, Hombre Chiropteran
(más loco que una cabra). *
Off we flew into the dream ethereal,
stars kissing, pulling at, our wind-stiff capes.
Below, the soft red clay hacienda
eroded brick by brick into red dust,
which flew up into the twin chambers
of our noses — our nostrils — four rooms, in all.
Nothing was rent-, or otherwise, controlled,
that night the world became a still red desert.
* Gordo = Fatso
Hombre Chiropteran = Bat Man
más loco que una cabra = crazier than a goat
First published in New Works Review.
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Poems by Ron Singer (www.ronsinger.net) have appeared in many e-zines, newspapers, and journals. His published books are A Voice for My Grandmother, The Second Kingdom, The Rented Pet, Look to Mountains, Look to Sea, and From a Small Fish in the Floating World. He recently completed three trips to Africa for Uhuru Revisited: Interviews with Pro-Democracy Leaders (Africa World Press/Red Sea Press, forthcoming). His serial thriller, Geistmann, is available at jukepopserials.com, as is his epic farce, The Parents We Deserve. Both his fiction and poetry have been nominated for Pushcart Prizes.