When I was a boy, I looked at an eclipse with my bare eyes
in The South Bronx of burnt out buildings.
A strange thing happened afterward.
A bright light appeared in front of my bedroom window, as
did a hurricane inside my room that scattered my comic books around, among
other objects.
I was being pulled into the light.
It was sheer force of will that prevented the little boy I
was from disappearing into another dimension.
I wasn’t ready for a new reality.
This is the persistence of my memory.
I recall being gifted in childhood with photographic memory
and creativity.
I remember doctors that wanted to administer a new drug
designed to dissolve a gland in the head of the little boy I was.
I stared into the
eyes of a doctor. He didn’t give me the drug.
The place where it happened was destroyed.
Today, it’s a parking lot of sorts for The New York City
Police Department.
In The New Millennium, a young American man tried to get
inside the building my mother has resided in for decades.
He identified himself
as Mark Wilson, a reporter for The New York Post.
He wanted to interview eyewitnesses to several bright lights
across the building that hovered for a few seconds before taking off at
unbelievable speed.
I studied pictures on his cell phone.
Mister Wilson, I am sure you are reading this, as I am sure
of scientific evidence to prove aliens have been on this gem of a planet for
thousands of years.
One of the aliens is called poverty.
Make with the mild mannered reporter thing and help change
the world for the best.
I am transmitting this final message from a public library
in The South Bronx.
Afterward, I will go out into the street and look into the
eclipse.
I wasn’t ready to leave the world when I was a kid.
I am ready
Now
My Re@l Life @s @ Comic Book
New York Radiology made MRI of my brain. Conceptual art and
text by
D@niel @ngel @ponte
Copyrighted 2017
