Runner-up in the 2021 Contest in Poetry. Read judge Douglas Kearney’s blurb here.
IN THE FAR PRESENT
after Jonathan Richman
THE TUNNEL
when we were seven my friend Dana and I became trapped in THE TUNNEL
THE TUNNEL was painted like a thick film over the old reality which, useless, struggled underneath
life in THE TUNNEL looked exactly the same as life outside except for one notable discrepancy:
in THE TUNNEL everyone we had ever known had been replaced by a monster
a. our siblings looked like our siblings but they were monsters
b. our parents looked like our parents but they were monsters
c. Central Park looked like Central Park, and the question of whether it, too, was a monster was heavily debated
between Dana and I
i. (the leading experts in the field)
d. the primary question being: could a park, inanimate, also be a monster
e. the animacy of the park, and of its various biological components (greenery, ponds) also subject to debate
upon reflection, we realized we had entered THE TUNNEL by shouting the words FIRE BREATHING DRAGON in unison,
an action which, apparently, transported any people or persons with magical properties into THE TUNNEL,
a. (Dana and I had hitherto determined that we were people or persons with magical properties, and thus subject to
magical codes surrounding speech)
luckily, escape from THE TUNNEL was straightforward:
a. we just had to say DRAGON BREATHING FIRE in unison
Dana and I re-entered THE TUNNEL regularly to study its behaviors:
a. in THE TUNNEL items such as chairs, hairbrushes, and clocks would subtly shift locations
b. in THE TUNNEL our teachers, replaced with monsters, would reprimand us unfairly for indiscretions we
hadn’t committed
c. the longer we spent in the THE TUNNEL, the easier it was to forget we were inside it
each foray into THE TUNNEL lasted a little longer, each return was a little more reluctant
a. (THE TUNNEL despite the monsters being somewhat more interesting to us than our ordinary lives)
but one day I came down with a fever, and everyone said the word “febrile,”
what did that word mean, I asked, to which thick pink medicine was placed in my mouth via plastic measuring tool and no answer readily provided,
a. I determined I had somehow unintentionally re-entered THE TUNNEL without Dana
b. (this theory substantiated by
i. the unpleasant flavor of the medicine
ii. the thin cotton swab having been placed at the back of my throat at the doctor’s
iii. a crack on my bedroom ceiling moving a few inches northeast of its original location)
in bed I deduced that “febrile” was a word that meant either
a. untrustworthy
b. glow-in-the-dark
c. enchantment
and that to get out of THE TUNNEL while “febrile” meant the words “THE TUNNEL” themselves must be said in reverse, the options for this type of saying being:
a. TUNNEL COMMA THE
b. LENNUT EHT
both of which I tried saying aloud (the second with more difficulty)
the words themselves transforming into monsters in the air before me,
closing my eyes I saw that beyond my bedroom was THE TUNNEL, vast and expansive, and beyond THE TUNNEL there was a deep, turbulent sea which held the the roiling world in its gut,
and I in my bed “febrile,” “febrile,” “febrile,”
a. (a word that shifted its location inside me)
and I in THE TUNNEL in the deep sea in New York City in my bed having been handed the cordless phone, the phone itself being, I suspected, a monster,
the phone number of Dana beginning with the area code 212, a number which is the same forwards as it is backwards,
a. (the rest of the number not being similarly palindromic)
b. (palindromic being a word I had learned recently in reference to the spelling of my sister Anna’s name)
c. (Anna being routinely monster-like within and outside of THE TUNNEL)
d. (her monstrous behavior not exorcisable from her by reversing her name)
e. (which seemed perhaps a clue to the nature of forwards and backwards)
Dana’s phone number (beginning but not ending with 212) being irrelevant to me because two weeks prior, Dana had given up
a. our friendship,
b. and the very concept of magic,
i. which she said was “juvenile” just like me,
“juvenile” being a word which, like “febrile,” I could only guess at the meaning of, and my guesses were:
a. forbidden
b. futile
c. a type of bean
any of which meant that I was stuck in the tunnel and would remain there forevermore,
a. (DRAGON BREATHING FIRE not being an efficacious spell when recited
i. alone,
ii. “juvenile”
iii. surrounded by monsters
iv. “febrile”
v. and with a fever to boot)
and everyone said if you’re unhappy use your words, but
a. I didn’t have any direction in which to orient my speech
b. I had a headache and nowhere to put it
so asleep in THE TUNNEL I dreamt of a park, it was a new park I had never seen before, but it was also Central Park, but it was a beautiful park, but the grass was very thin,
and I stood on my head in the grass,
and my father said, of course you’d do that,
a. such actions being typical of me at that time and others,
but from upside down I could only see the future,
a. a world in which my actions might not reflect their prior typicality,
i. for example, Dana and I never met in the future
and if, outside of the dream, the doctor finally called, and it was
a. influenza,
b. strep throat,
c. scarlet fever,
would my cure release me from THE TUNNEL, from the dream, from the park, from the necessity of language
a. and secondarily could I, in the process, be taught what an action really was, if it could be set against itself, could
be reversed, could reorient forwards and backwards, could dial 212121212 for all eternity,
b. or if, alternately, an action upside down is just another action,
and would I ever outside THE TUNNEL return to Central Park where Dana and I had once climbed a tree and spit from atop it
a. (an action somehow unnoticed by passersby)
for in the dream the park was perfect and ominous,
but outside the park was lovely and regular,
and the day was actual,
and so was the temperature