Odysseus by Michael L. Utley

Image Source: Canva Pro

I saw Odysseus sprawled on the sidewalk between

The squalid little deli and the boarded-up

All-night video place whose weather-stained

Posters advertised GIRLS GIRLS GIRLS

Amid obtuse indecipherable graffiti and

A fallen constellation of multi-hued shards of

Broken glass that crunched underfoot like

Bone fragments

The patina of snow about him

Pristine in its absence of footprints from

Passers-by as if the stench of his

Existence had formed an unseen barrier  

A half-moon DMZ buffering

His world from ours

And ours from his

And seemed to accelerate those who passed

As if sling-shotting them along their snowy

Midnight trajectories by means of his own

Anomalous gravity

And he was invisible

This shivering, coughing Odysseus

This Odysseus of ancient rheumy eyes and

Filth-caked garb of indeterminate color and

Dirty twitching fingers destroyed by age and arthritis

That latched onto

Nothingness in the inhuman chill

Of this strange distant land

Far from home

I saw Odysseus standing on the corner

Across from the new shopping mall with

Hundreds of stores and a garish

GRAND OPENING FREE HOT DOGS

WIN A NEW TOYOTA TRUCK

Sign filling up half the blazing summer sky

The color of which no one noticed as they

Funneled mindlessly into the parking lot of sticky asphalt

Eager to rid themselves of their wealth

Like lemmings compelled by the inexorable call

Of the briny deep

This sun-stroked Odysseus’ sign

Garnered far less attention

WILL WORK FOR FOOD

And like some weird contrary magnetism it

Served only to avert the eyes of eager shoppers

Whose cash-bulging wallets held no alms

This day or any other day for anyone

With the temerity the gall the nerve

To spoil the festive mood of capitalism

And he was invisible

This gaunt, silent Odysseus

This Odysseus of haunted eyes the shade of

Tortured youth and abandonment

An aura about him that described an intimate ken

Of the black brackish hearts of fathers

Who show their children love by means of

The belt the closed fist the bruise the shattered bone

His outstretched hand unseen, voided

In the swelter and exhaust fumes

Of this strange distant land

Far from home

I saw Odysseus posed beneath the arc-sodium glare

Of streetlights in stilettos and not much else

As vehicles prowled the night like hungry panthers

Purring as they edged up to the curb to test their prey

Whose prayers, if any, went unanswered day by day

Whose god was the black tar of forgetfulness

Purchased nightly with the currency of her body

And she leaned hesitantly into the maw of the predator

A deal done through open-windowed anonymity

Then undone moments later amid an avalanche

Of raucous laughter and filthy epithets

As the panther sprang from the curb in search of other prey

Stranding her alone in the antiseptic wash

Of the indifferent streetlights that left her feeling

All the more dirty

And she was invisible

This trembling, empty Odysseus

This Odysseus of painted eyes the shame of which

No amount of camouflage could veil

The craving in her veins an all-out roar

Obliterating everything

Tears gone eons ago

Fear driving her like some twisted dynamo

Toward the blackness of the next fix

Or the grave

In this strange distant land

Far from home

I saw Odysseus pronated on the center stripe

Of a dark desert highway

Leather-gloved hands folded neatly on leather-clad breast

As four cops stood chatting idly above him like distracted pallbearers

His motorcycle a hundred feet away in a thousand pieces

His helmet still attached and useless

As the shield of a fallen warrior

A mere formality at this point

The silent ambulance en route with idiot lights flashing

To scoop this thing off the road and deposit it

Somewhere else

And he was invisible

This stilled, hushed Odysseus

This Odysseus of black leather and broken body

Who would soon cease to be a nuisance to the cops

And become a nuisance to the coroner

And then to the earth itself

And then forgotten

Just some meaningless blip on the back page

Of the next day’s paper where the anonymous

Go to die

In this strange distant land

Far from home

I have seen Odysseus at the hospital stitched with tubes

A human loom

I have seen Odysseus in the dim hallways of high school

Eyes glued to the floor in a gauntlet of cat-calls

I have seen Odysseus unconscious in the shade of an oak in the city park

Reeking of cheap booze and excrement

I have seen Odysseus on dusty shoulders of forgotten highways

Faded signs in hand that say Albuquerque or Denver or Phoenix

I have seen Odysseus in the bleachers of baseball games

On county road crews in supermarkets in churches

In unemployment lines in bars in prisons

In the mirror

Everywhere I look he is there

Trying to find his way back

In this strange distant land

Far from home

-MICHAEL L. UTLEY

Mike is a deaf writer/photographer who lives in rural southwest Colorado, USA.  His love of nature shines through his poetry and photography, both of which he uses to make sense of his world.

Please visit Silent Pariah to read and view more of his wonderful work.

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