Edward Benz, 27 Times
I heard the old mans voice break, stutter once then stop it.
I Heard
A sentence started confidently halted by the sudden absence of
A word. Stumbled and he sputtered trying to find it back, something once so
Simple gone now.
When he finally gave up told me, 'Aw, its like Hell getting old.'
When you came into the store, did you know youd show me your scars?
I had a heavy heart, he carried a door, its shattered pane all wrapped in
Plastic and
He asked if
I could fix it, come by a little later help
Him put it back on hinges. 'See, Im far too old to lift it and its Not for my house, its my sons.'
When you opened up the door, what is it you thought youd find?
Nobody flinch.
Later I came by and backed into the driveway.
Got out to find him waiting
There to lead me
Through the side yard to back behind the house where
The door frame stood empty and helped
Me keep it steady while
I Hammered all the pins in then later on the porch we somehow got
To
Talking, he told me of the house and how is son is schizophrenic
So they purchased it for him ,
The medication working and they figured
It would help him fit in, help him lead a normal life.
But the pills made him sleep too much.
And he couldnt keep a job as a
Result so one day he just
Gave up on taking them.
And that day she
Had called you, hed locked her outside of the house.
How quickly did you get there?
And what were you thinking while walking up?
What fears flashed in front of you, taunted you, walking to unlock
The door?
I remember it,
Ed. That story you told me came back clear tonight here
While writing.
And you
Should know the feeling never left me–the
Weight of my heart–when you showed me the scars
On your arms, when
I Looked in your eyes and
I heard what you said how you probably
Wouldve
Died were it not for to care for your daughter and wife.
How He drove in the knife, still your son,
How you seemed to look through me to some old projector screen playing back
The scene as
You described it on a movie reel, as real as the minute
When it happened, that memory moving
Behind me.
That moment that
Changed you for good.
And he drove to the house and pulled into the driveway.
Got out to find his
Wife waiting, frantic.
Shed come by to check, found that pillbox
Was empty, went out to the pharmacy to fill up his
Prescription and
Came back to a locked door and could not get back in.
Shed knocked
And shed knocked but he wasnt responding.
You put the key into the lock and turned it.
Felt the bolt slide away.
Slowly open.
Went into the hall, his son held a knife, standing off
In the shadows, lunged forward and tackled
Him.
Stabbing him over
And over and breaking that window.
He fled up the staircase.
The Ambulance came; stitched and filled him with blood while the cops took his
Son with his wires so
Tangled his father was a stranger.
And I sit in my apartment.
Im getting no answers.
Im Finding no peace, no release from the anger.
I leave it at arms
Length.
Im keeping my distance.
From hotels and
Jesus and
Blood on the carpet.
Im stomaching nothing.
Im reaching for
No one.
Im leaving this city and
Im headed out to nowhere .
I carry your image.
Your grandfathers coffin.
And Ed, If you hear me,
I think of you often.
Thats all
I can offer.
Thats all that
I know how to give.