The Segregation of Kelly Wood

A scary kind of puff face filled with freckles
Hoarsish voice on the border of belligerent
But a female belligerent
She was a thick volleyball girl with red horse mane hair
Looking back I can see how a little age could turn her
One night in a college town I walked through an apartment door
There she stood in one of those tapestry dresses hippie girls
Get in the college hippie shops
When she saw me she was amazed and gasping about the universe
And the oneness of outer space
A different version of the same person, high school volley ball days
To the muck of college hip culture
I think I was looking for the same
Good ole hooting hollering beer drinking time in a college town
As I looked for when she was playing volleyball in high school
And putting off the popular girls
I heard later she got married in a head shop on Fry street.
By now I suspect all that universe
Has wore the liquid between her eyelid and eyeball thin.
Maybe things like oneness are
“A bunch of bullshit”.
Or maybe some of the black light and shimmering dots of stars
Are integrated with dish soap
And one hundred and ten degree Texas swelter.
Maybe memorial day and Christmas are spent with the kids swimming,
Hot dogs cooking. A little talk about aunt Karen and volleyball days
And the oneness. That would be just fine I guess.
But then maybe it’s not any of that.
Maybe Kelly Wood is down to the bone
Confused and needle riddled
Space and the universe a black cold hell hole about to suck in her
And that red mane forever
Life like bruised ankles and scratched up shoes
Maybe I will hear mañana of her death, or maybe a year or two
From today.

Copyright © 2012 by Greenberry Landham.