The Streetwise Amnesiac

How am I here? In this place. My tears are long gone, as too is my mental flipbook of faces, which I can no longer recall. I see an object, it looks familiar but what is it!? People are near me, I don't know who they are. I don't know how long I have been here. The walls are cold

and all this is burning inside me.The smoke from my internal fire didn't let me see anything, it's like something inside me was on fire. A person from that strange place approached me in an aggressive way.

“‘Fire in your belly’ is a metaphor, sir! You’re not supposed to actually light your guts aflame! And certainly not in an art museum!” With that, one guard doused me with a fire extinguisher as the other frog marched me to the nearest exit.

Have you ever been tossed from an establishment like they do in the movies? Like, a big guy holds the other by the collar & the seat of his pants & just chucks him to the pavement? It hurts! Well, I lay on the sidewalk, staring up at the clouds, wondering if I had a concussion or

a brain bleed. I rolled onto my side and white hot pain shot through my skull. Okay, I guess I live here now. On the sidewalk. Concrete, please accept me as your own and welcome me to your tribe.

From then on I embraced the stoic lifestyle of being a slab. Supporting kids on their way to school, helping people run after loved ones. Shoot, I probably get a thousand bags of groceries home a week. I may be a sidewalk, but I’m not on the sidelines.