MY PLACE IN NO-MAN’S LAND by Lucius Prescott
“Here I stand, alone, this flamboyant-filled
last-week-day morning
manifesting into full bloom
the dreams and the visions
that my ancestors miserably failed
to realize for me:
‘That is to secure for me the land of milk and honey
and possibly the Olive Branch.’
With my bare hands
I am falling massive wall-trees
and never-ending fields of steel-trees.
With my eyes on fire from sweat-dripping brows
and my palms ablaze from handling the
rugged stones of misfortune, and tumult,
I am battling hard to earn, for my feet,
this special place
in the constantly shifting sands
of this No-man’s land.
I am carefully fashioning and constructing for myself
a new bullet proof jacket
To protect me from strayed bullets
From the smoking guns of deranged drug barons
as I timidly move around the towns.
I am carefully fashioning and constructing for myself,
the ultimate metal shield
that will not expose my fragile heart,
as it will not yield
to the piercing apexes of ice picks and stiletto
as well as those of ratchets and bayonets.
With my eyes on fire from sweat-dripping brows
and my palms ablaze from handling the
rugged stones of misfortune, and tumult,
I am battling hard to earn, for my feet,
this special place
in the constantly shifting sands
of this No-man’s land.”
-END
