2002-03-19

In 1993
There was a flood in Oklahoma
I remember that it was prom night
For my high school
Which was Capitol Hill
(I usually called it Capitol Hell
But that's not really important)
I wasn't all that broken up about not getting to go to it
In fact
If it weren't for the woman I had been dating
I certainly wouldn't
Have even bothered with the thing
It had been raining a lot I suppose
But in this state
It's really hard to tell a thing like that
After I had gotten all ready for the night
I looked out and saw that
The water had reached the curb
And the street was beggining to look
A little like I had always thought Venice would
It was quite lovely
If you didn't think about
The sewage that was
Floating in the street-river
My father informed me
That going anywhere was a bad idea
Because the storm wasn't about to let up
So I called my date and told her the news
By the time I got off the phone
The water was inching its way
Toward my porch
Moving faster than a snail
But a little slower than a turtle
(Or perhaps that's the other way around
My memory of those sort of things
Is rather dim these days)
There was still nothing to worry about
As far as I was concerned
It had a long way to go
Before it could even start to climb
Up my front steps
Then I heard sounds
That today makes me think
Of the women of Dionysus
As they reached the peak of thier fury
At the time I just thought it another wind
Before I knew what was going on
My dad was running around the house
Like his ass was on fire
Trying to put any electronic stuff
In high places
And he yelled for us to go across the street
Which was on slightly higher ground
As we did so
My mother asked about the dog
And so we went to get her as well
I remember my fathe screaming
My mother crying
Yet I was calm as death
As we crossed the waist-deep river
That once was a road
I had walked a million times
I remember it pulling on me
As if someone had tied rope
Around the lower half of me
But didn't quite get the substance of it right
And so it slipped around and through me
Afterwards
Very little had actually been damaged
Mostly thanks to my father's
Quick actions with the gagets
But there was two inches
Of a thick, slimy substance
Everywhere you walked
All of which smelled horrible
All of the toys
From the child I was
Were ruined
But that didn't really matter much
My atari 2600 might have been ok
They used to build those things quite solid
But I never checked it
I was only stuff after all
The only things that got to me
Was the destruction of the old trunk
That I used to nap in when younger
And the few pictures of my childhood
That I had actually liked
Not even a glimpse
Of my previous home in California remained
And as I sit here now
At an antique desk
Working my way toward becoming
An antique myself
Trying in vain to remember
That place of mystery
The place of magic
That I used to live in
I realize why that upset me so much
You see whenever I do touch
Those few photos
Of friends and other things besides
That still remain in my possession
I can conjure up
The sensations of being there
With them
I can remember the smell
Of the hair of an old lover
I can remember the way
A friend used to hug me
As we greeted each other after a long absence
But a good five years
Of the most important time of my life
Developmentally speaking
Are now only vauge impressions
And mental flashes of image
That have as much substance
As an old black-and-white
Of someone else's life

~Matt Magus

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