Dreams Deferred...

Haven't wrote anything in a while until tonight I came upon an old story I had started about being in Pennsylvania.





The Borough of Modena


It is a Sunday.
Aren't Sundays lovely days? Here time seems to stop and listen to itself breathe for a minute. Each of the tiny pebbles burst and explode from the bottom of my truck.
I am swimming.
Deeper and Deeper into the belly of South Coatesville until it is so dark that I can't even realize where I am or what marvelous creatures surround me. The moisture paints my lips. Once triumphant, it moves down to my chin, my neck to eventually meet the rest of my body. I have taken a bath.

What are Boroughs?

I am handing a drill to a woman who has volunteered for Habitat from ING. When I first introduced myself to her, she didn't shake my hand or mention her name until I asked again. Listening to her complain the whole day, I turn to her as she is trying to unsuccessfully screw, " Why are places around here called 'boroughs'?"
She stood there looking bloated and angry.

She being from out of state as well, turns to me and says the same exact phrase everyone in Pennsylvania seems to have to say about the subject, "hrm....I don't know, I haven't seemed to figure that one out since I moved here."


There is nothing in Modena besides a sign that claims you are with in it's borders.
I am held captive by my horrible sense of direction and my wonderful ability to travel in large circles.After long travels on roads that have three different names, I pull over to the side.
Sometimes you don't care if you are lost or not.

When I had first arrived into Pennsylvania, I would become so frustrated at being lost.
I wanted to know everything right away, not be so much of an outsider.

I watch the drizzle tickle each of the tiny wildflowers. The smallest of rain has left a rich atmosphere of the brightest shade of green. The purest of hue.
I sit in the recycled air that I have been dwelling in the tiny cab, when I realize a small dirt road. I feel adventurous, and more importantly lack of wanting for my room and the various set of movies that I've been watching over and over again to suppress the time.
The road winds, as though I were a child's punch floating up into a twisty straw.
I stop and get out of my car.
What lay in front of me is a small brick abandoned house.
A tiny neglected for sale sign lay broken in the yard surrounded by glass from it's equally hurt windows.Army of weeds have sprung into battle amongst the man made pavement that has been split open from the change of seasons.
As though I have just found the love of my life, I am instantly smitten and forever taken.
I linger on the porch for a while, weary not to frighten or be too forward with my new lover.Once secure, I find a bedroom, a modest living room and the tiniest of kitchens.The wooden boards have buckled in places, parts of the drywall has disappeared to the outside layer of brick, and the kitchen cupboards have lost some of their hinges.There are few reminiscences of previous life such as an old table and chairs and a mirror that barely hangs from one nail in the middle of the living room.Hours begin to fly by, between the dancing in my new dance hall, the idea of dinner parties in the back yard, and my own fantasies of having a family.
I lay on the floor as I watch the sun that is starting to bury itself into trees.