Ascent (3 page)
Farmer
Gray hair
Leather skin
Very straightforward
Horses grazing
Mine filled in
Decades ago
Can barely
See the entrance
Covered in earth
And just some remaining bricks
Of the old factory
Some people claim
They hear phantom sounds
Machines rumble
Screeching sounds
Wails
The grandson Jesse
—You the guys looking
—For the giant bat?
That we are Sir
That we are
Walking around the grounds
Stop at the site
Of original shaft opening
Mr. Steadman
No-nonsense guy
Says sometimes
Gets a weird feeling
Shakes his head
Impression
That something just
Isn’t right
Son says
—Me too
—My friends and I
—Always afraid to play here
I wonder if
Something is buried down there
Like those horns
Glowing
Still glowing
That it is was a fabrication
Floating through
The night sky
A great form
Of some kind
Mr. Steadman
Invites us to come back
That night
11 pm
We come back
Tons of gear
Glowing
Still glowing
Cameras
Audio recorders
Motion detectors
Night vision video
Geiger counter
EMF meters
Thermoscanners
—A cricket won’t fart
—Without us hearing it
We wait
And wait
—Shit this is a waste of time
—Fuckers are long gone man
Eric starts
Texting with his fiancé
Reserved a block
Of hotel rooms
Who’s invited
To Friday night rehearsal dinner
Write their own vows
Glowing
Still glowing
That it was a fabrication
We need that footprint
We need that footprint
Experts at
Iowa Historical Society
Search for it
Will probably be fruitless
Plaster used
In 1903 would have been soft
And brittle
Unless properly stored
Odds are
It would have crumbled to pieces
Next day
30 miles
Outside of Van Meter
Granddaughter of
Clarence “Peter” Dunn
Maureen James
Small wooden clapboard house
Peeling paint
Odds are
It would have crumbled to pieces
A grandmother herself
Blue jeans
Puffing Parliament
Heavy chuckles
Coughs
Outside a table
Chopping carrots
2 grandchildren
Jasper and Amelia
Running around
Come on
Want to help
Your old grandma
Make a carrot cake?
Wind blowing
Chuckles
Coughs
Their mom works a lot
Meat packing plant
I’m on disability
So I take the kids
They’re dear
Aren’t they?
—Yes they are ma’am
Glowing
Still glowing
Floating through
The night sky
We ask her
About her grandfather
And any casting
Of the footprint
Casting?
I don’t know
Of any casting
A footprint?
A footprint of a robber?
The story is
He saved the bank
From getting robbed
Singlehandedly
Blasted his shot gun
Right through the glass
Boom!
Nailed that son of a bitch!
Nailed ‘em!
Coughs
Crumbled to pieces
That night
Eric and I at the motel
Texting
With Lori
My phone beeps
Text photo
From Julie
To my wife
And me
Her camping trip
A light
Over the tree line
Large-orb like
Glows
Mom, Dad
We saw a UFO!
I kid you not!
We all saw it
It was so cool!
We have pictures
And video
A light above us
Floating through
The night sky
Floating
It was bizarre
Rising above us
I giggle
Text her back
How wonderful!
Did you ever see one Daddy?
No
Later
Lying in bed
—I wasn’t faithful to Lori
What?
—I wasn’t faithful
—I met her at the gym
—She was always smiling at me
—Flirt
—Asian girl named Tammy
—Texted me photos
—Then we hooked up
—Only twice
—I felt too guilty
When?
—Six months ago
—It was nothing
—But we hooked up
—I’m going to tell her
Now you’re going to tell her man?
Right before the wedding?
You crazy?
You want to fuck this all up?
—I have to
—I feel too guilty
Silence
—Did you ever stray?
What?
—Did you fool around on Sarah?
No
Don’t tell her
It’s over right?
—Yes
Then don’t tell her
It never happened
It never happened
Sweating
I’m pawing for her buttons
Right in the bathroom
Pawing
As we fall
Undo her strap
Fingers tremble
We can’t tell anyone
As we fall
Fingers tremble
This never happened
***
After we leave
Maureen James
Granddaughter of
Clarence “Peter” Dunn
Goes down to the cellar
Retrieves old cardboard box
Takes it outside
The wind is blowing
Blowing
Opens the old box
Unwraps something
Yellowed filthy newspapers
What is it Grandma?
What is it?
The wind is blowing
Examines
Old plaster casting
What is it?
Large footprint
Three toes
The wind is blowing
Want you to help me guys
You each grab hold of it
What is it Grandma?
And squeeze
We all squeeze
Why are we doing this?
Breaks apart
Crumbles
She smiles
Dust
The wind is blowing
She smiles
It never happened
I look at of the Facebook postings
Photos and videos
Tweets
Instagram
Tumblr
Flicker
Blogs
Websites
A flash of light
In the darkness
Rising
Over the trees
Large silent object
With bright lights
Glows
300 feet
Over a pasture
We all saw it
We’re not crazy
We’re not crazy
At their wedding
We’re all dancing the Horah
Dancing
His tie loose
Shirt untucked
Drunk
Sweaty
Dancing the Horah
Put them in chairs
We lift them
Lift them
Laughter
Each holding
The end of a napkin
The flash
Of lights
Her beautiful white A-line sleeveless
Satin lace gown
Trembling
We fall
Undo her strap
Glistening
We lift them
We lift
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
I want to thank Lenora Lapidus and Izzy Lapidus. You are my life.
I want to thank Vincenzo Bilof and Pat Douglas of Bizarro Pulp Press for having the faith.
Thank you for reading Jerry Wilson and David Herter. Your opinions mean so much.
Thank you to Elizabeth Powell, Jordan Krall, Jim Goddard, Scott Rogers, Chris Kelso, Jacob White, Alexis Fancher, Kris Saknussemm, Jennifer O’Grady, Cynthia Atkins, John Lyle, David Appelbaum, David Bialer. Robert Whitehill, JS Breukelaar, Matthew Rohrer, Matthew Lippman.
I also want to acknowledge the memory of the great writer and my friend Lucius Shepard.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Matt Bialer is the author of seven books of poetry including
Radius
(Les Editions du Zaporogue),
Already Here, Ark, Black Powder, The Bloop
(all from Black Coffee Press) and
Bridge
(Leaky Boot Press),
Tell Them What I Saw
(PS Publishing, UK) and
He Walks On All Fours
(Dynatox Ministries). His poems have appeared in many print and online journals including
La Zaporogue, Green Mountains Review, Gobbet, Forklift Ohio, Cultural Weekly
and
H_NGM_N
. He is also an acclaimed black and white street photographer and watercolorist who has exhibited widely. Some of his photographs are in the permanent collections of The Brooklyn Museum, The Museum of the City of New York and the The New York Public Library and his watercolors are in many private collections. His photographic monograph,
More Than You Know
, was published in 2011 by Les Editions du Zaporogue and
Shadowbrook
, a book of his paintings was issued by the same publisher in 2012. Matt lives with his wife Lenora Lapidus and daughter Izzy in Park Slope, Brooklyn. His website is www.mattbialer.com
OTHER TITLES OFFERED BY BIZARRO PULP PRESS!
The Horror Show
by Vincenzo Bilof
A poetry novel—a narcoleptic, amnesiac Nobel Prize-winning poet becomes the subject of an experiment to cure madness.
A Lightbulb’s Lament
by Grant Wamack
A gentleman with a lightbulb for head wakes up in a world full of darkness, hooks up with a beautiful ex-prostitute, and an old man who can heal people; he travels down south to find the mysterious Creator.
