songs of strange language


as he guided the blind woman’s finger tip along the lines of his drawings, outlines and form, she would speak to him of color, what her fingers knew, in songs of strange language. you had to believe, the grace. she had once been his whore, tracing the face of shame on hearts in dark places. but they had changed things around, the man and his whore, by the words of a prophet, a spoken vision. life can offer so much with the right people, at the right time. it went well.
the paintings sold wherever they went and people were quite amazed at the sight of them, the disheartened and those who faced death. they had stopped to get work done on their old silver station wagon, a Ponitac Safari, new parts old adjustments. the man and his blind woman were now sitting in a clearing by a river behind the What If Diner, waiting for the mechanic to get it all done. it was good to rest and watch the river go by, they traveled so much. had been some kind of resort area this place, a long time ago, there being picnic tables and bar-b-cue things all around. broken up now. a pinball machine sat a ways off, in the open, under the sun. faded out and cracked. it had a Three Magi theme, they who believed Heaven had opened and made their offerings. down the river was a shut down amusement park with an ancient Ferris Wheel, animal figures were painted on the seats, very muck like those animal figures drawn by the cavemen in their caves. the man took it as a kind portent and magic. “people gone away from here,” the man said nicely, always telling the woman various things being that she was blind and could not see for herself. but still a touch of meanness in his voice from how he used to be.
the cook from the What If Diner came out, taking a break from cooking. he brought with him some fresh baked pie that was a favorite around here for the people that were left. super ingredients. it was a glorious morning and he liked his new friends so he began talking things about this and that, not having really talked for a great while and and needing to talk. these people were friendly of course, the kind of people it was good to talk to. they listened with all their hearts.
they all began talking about things good and bad, the way things went. what people do to each other, tearing away at each other and life an how they wanted to be most important when it didn’t even matter at all. its all about lies when it comes down to it said the man, lies make us feel more powerful than love. the blind woman said love makes us want truth, which was a pretty good thing to say. but then people could be good too, said the cook, because we know that is what we are here for but we just want to get away from ourselves is all. nowhere is somewhere when you need it he said and then he confessed his fears and hopes and sorrows right then and there. soon after he went back to the kitchen with a new idea for chili sauce.
the man and the blind woman decided to go to a movie to wait a while longer with the hope of a fixed car. they went to the How About Theater to watch a movie, So Much So was playing. a really great movie revealing the meaning of life as it unfolded in our hearts and minds with truth and grace. funny thing, about halfway through the movie, the part during the parade, the blind woman was able to see, her blindness had gone, sight was given to her eyes. that’s it, she said out loud, I can see. new eyes were born you could say. the man got up to dance, with madness and ecstasy, to her songs of strange language.


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Robert Paul Cesaretti has published in many journals.  He is the founding editor of Ginosko Literary Journal and a native of the San Francisco Bay Area.

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