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The Bend


by Darryl Price


Do you hear that?  I know it's in my head, 
but is it in your head, too? Hey. You're walking 
much too fast for me! Give me some time to 
catch up, will you? Tell me you hear that. Oh, 
come on. It's got to be the sound of the 
poem either coming or going. We don't want these interesting 

things to pass us by. Everybody's got a reason going 
on. Let them stew in silence. Don't cast a delicious 
net out, yet. The best gunfighters don't need a gun. 
Even if you saw it with your own two eyes 
you might not believe it was real because of who 
you are trying to avoid at all costs. He or 

she looks a lot like you and me. The poem 
changes as often as any sky does. It doesn't always 
announce its clear intentions right away, but that doesn't mean 
it's not trying to get your kite's attention. Maybe it 
will throw a fist full of sudden leaves at you 
or something unexpected like a broken umbrella, looking like a 

dead robot flamingo. A poor lost beat-up toy banging 
its soft head through the bent gap at the gate. 
When people just aren't listening, you've got no choice but 
to use whatever you can to form new words to 
sound around the present situation. It's worth a try. Look, 
another grass-chewing cow in the sky! What's funny is the 

enlightened cow looks completely unbothered. Holy cow! There's the poem 
again, ahead of us, rounding the bend, whistling its damned 
head off like there's no tomorrow to worry about. Why 
are we chasing this crazy thing around? Haven't we got 
better things to do with our precious time? Stop asking 
me so many stupid questions. I don't know why. The 

poem seems to want us to follow. I'm going to 
see where it is taking us to. Oh, I brought 
you along because I like you and wanted to share 
an adventure with you. Look! There it is, sitting with 
its back against a tree. Is that a woman with 
her head in its lap? Now they are switching places.       
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