Good Idea

What perils we face inside the New World, full of death defying naivete our bravery hath no foresight into the unknown.

Early morning fog of pollution crowds the dock of the dead; bodies of reeking smoke arise from steamy grave water. Pigeons substitute the position of sea gulls; white is too pure for these pickings. We edge the slope to a ramp recycled from polished maple hotel ballroom renovation curving upward towards the largest ship at rest.

"Are you sure I should trust this guy......I know you sort of look alike.......come on, what the hell is this......."

I contemplate every word of discretion; triumphant emotion guides me through the stench.

"Antonius, here we are amongst the dead, yes indeed. The smell is undeniable and we do know morning is the only safe time for humans to cross amongst these wooden platforms of justice. This will be the moment of truth for your ability. You must overcome your worst fear and abolish all discredit amongst your adversities. This is where you Antonius will defeat your greatest enemy...........death! "

This may be the final destination for the wheeled board carrying his winged feet. Gemini slowly walks into the clouds of vapor ghosts; the drama of Shakespeare surrounds Hamlet's account. Logical sense floats further into the bay. Antonius stands tall astounded by thoughtless reality; we are caught between charismatic waves. He peers possible doom; the challenger and ringleader emerges from the depths of the stink.

"Thus Antonius we honor you with this armor so thine noggin will be protected from thine flogging."

Gold metallic spray paint sparkles from spotlight reflection scanning liquid currents and long narrow pink feathers plucked from a boa align the center brushing gusts of inertia; a mohawk football helmet awaits him. He bows one knee onto earth and the other angles towards destiny; the empty head begins to fill. Behind him is a larger balcony edge pulled from a skating rink for circular momentum. Rusty iron black enamel abstract splotches can be seen from the boat ahead. My twin and I debate a few words twisted from rehearsal. We look over the bay; a shiny gold coin with pink wings waves a thumbs up.