Ascent (3 page)

Farmer

Gray hair

Leather skin

Very straightforward

Horses grazing

Mine filled in

Decades ago

Can barely

See the entrance

Covered in earth

And just some remaining bricks

Of the old factory

Some people claim

They hear phantom sounds

Machines rumble

Screeching sounds

Wails

The grandson Jesse

—You the guys looking

—For the giant bat?

That we are Sir

That we are

Walking around the grounds

Stop at the site

Of original shaft opening

Mr. Steadman

No-nonsense guy

Says sometimes

Gets a weird feeling

Shakes his head

Impression

That something just

Isn’t right

Son says

—Me too

—My friends and I

—Always afraid to play here

I wonder if

Something is buried down there

Like those horns

Glowing

Still glowing

That it is was a fabrication

Floating through

The night sky

A great form

Of some kind

Mr. Steadman

Invites us to come back

That night

11 pm

We come back

Tons of gear

Glowing

Still glowing

Cameras

Audio recorders

Motion detectors

Night vision video

Geiger counter

EMF meters

Thermoscanners

—A cricket won’t fart

—Without us hearing it

We wait

And wait

—Shit this is a waste of time

—Fuckers are long gone man

Eric starts

Texting with his fiancé

Reserved a block

Of hotel rooms

Who’s invited

To Friday night rehearsal dinner

Write their own vows

Glowing

Still glowing

That it was a fabrication

We need that footprint

We need that footprint

Experts at

Iowa Historical Society

Search for it

Will probably be fruitless

Plaster used

In 1903 would have been soft

And brittle

Unless properly stored

Odds are

It would have crumbled to pieces

Next day

30 miles

Outside of Van Meter

Granddaughter of

Clarence “Peter” Dunn

Maureen James

Small wooden clapboard house

Peeling paint

Odds are

It would have crumbled to pieces

A grandmother herself

Blue jeans

Puffing Parliament

Heavy chuckles

Coughs

Outside a table

Chopping carrots

2 grandchildren

Jasper and Amelia

Running around

Come on

Want to help

Your old grandma

Make a carrot cake?

Wind blowing

Chuckles

Coughs

Their mom works a lot

Meat packing plant

I’m on disability

So I take the kids

They’re dear

Aren’t they?

—Yes they are ma’am

Glowing

Still glowing

Floating through

The night sky

We ask her

About her grandfather

And any casting

Of the footprint

Casting?

I don’t know

Of any casting

A footprint?

A footprint of a robber?

The story is

He saved the bank

From getting robbed

Singlehandedly

Blasted his shot gun

Right through the glass

Boom!

Nailed that son of a bitch!

Nailed ‘em!

Coughs

Crumbled to pieces

That night

Eric and I at the motel

Texting

With Lori

My phone beeps

Text photo

From Julie

To my wife

And me

Her camping trip

A light

Over the tree line

Large-orb like

Glows

Mom, Dad

We saw a UFO!

I kid you not!

We all saw it

It was so cool!

We have pictures

And video

A light above us

Floating through

The night sky

Floating

It was bizarre

Rising above us

I giggle

Text her back

How wonderful!

Did you ever see one Daddy?

No

Later

Lying in bed

—I wasn’t faithful to Lori

What?

—I wasn’t faithful

—I met her at the gym

—She was always smiling at me

—Flirt

—Asian girl named Tammy

—Texted me photos

—Then we hooked up

—Only twice

—I felt too guilty

When?

—Six months ago

—It was nothing

—But we hooked up

—I’m going to tell her

Now you’re going to tell her man?

Right before the wedding?

You crazy?

You want to fuck this all up?

—I have to

—I feel too guilty

Silence

—Did you ever stray?

What?

—Did you fool around on Sarah?

No

Don’t tell her

It’s over right?

—Yes

Then don’t tell her

It never happened

It never happened

Sweating

I’m pawing for her buttons

Right in the bathroom

Pawing

As we fall

Undo her strap

Fingers tremble

We can’t tell anyone

As we fall

Fingers tremble

This never happened

***

After we leave

Maureen James

Granddaughter of

Clarence “Peter” Dunn

Goes down to the cellar

Retrieves old cardboard box

Takes it outside

The wind is blowing

Blowing

Opens the old box

Unwraps something

Yellowed filthy newspapers

What is it Grandma?

What is it?

The wind is blowing

Examines

Old plaster casting

What is it?

Large footprint

Three toes

The wind is blowing

Want you to help me guys

You each grab hold of it

What is it Grandma?

And squeeze

We all squeeze

Why are we doing this?

Breaks apart

Crumbles

She smiles

Dust

The wind is blowing

She smiles

It never happened

I look at of the Facebook postings

Photos and videos

Tweets

Instagram

Tumblr

Flicker

Blogs

Websites

A flash of light

In the darkness

Rising

Over the trees

Large silent object

With bright lights

Glows

300 feet

Over a pasture

We all saw it

We’re not crazy

We’re not crazy

At their wedding

We’re all dancing the Horah

Dancing

His tie loose

Shirt untucked

Drunk

Sweaty

Dancing the Horah

Put them in chairs

We lift them

Lift them

Laughter

Each holding

The end of a napkin

The flash

Of lights

Her beautiful white A-line sleeveless

Satin lace gown

Trembling

We fall

Undo her strap

Glistening

We lift them

We lift

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

I want to thank Lenora Lapidus and Izzy Lapidus. You are my life.

I want to thank Vincenzo Bilof and Pat Douglas of Bizarro Pulp Press for having the faith.

Thank you for reading Jerry Wilson and David Herter. Your opinions mean so much.

Thank you to Elizabeth Powell, Jordan Krall, Jim Goddard, Scott Rogers, Chris Kelso, Jacob White, Alexis Fancher, Kris Saknussemm, Jennifer O’Grady, Cynthia Atkins, John Lyle, David Appelbaum, David Bialer. Robert Whitehill, JS Breukelaar, Matthew Rohrer, Matthew Lippman.

I also want to acknowledge the memory of the great writer and my friend Lucius Shepard.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Matt Bialer is the author of seven books of poetry including
Radius
(Les Editions du Zaporogue),
Already Here, Ark, Black Powder, The Bloop
(all from Black Coffee Press) and
Bridge
(Leaky Boot Press),
Tell Them What I Saw
(PS Publishing, UK) and
He Walks On All Fours
(Dynatox Ministries). His poems have appeared in many print and online journals including
La Zaporogue, Green Mountains Review, Gobbet, Forklift Ohio, Cultural Weekly
and
H_NGM_N
. He is also an acclaimed black and white street photographer and watercolorist who has exhibited widely. Some of his photographs are in the permanent collections of The Brooklyn Museum, The Museum of the City of New York and the The New York Public Library and his watercolors are in many private collections. His photographic monograph,
More Than You Know
, was published in 2011 by Les Editions du Zaporogue and
Shadowbrook
, a book of his paintings was issued by the same publisher in 2012. Matt lives with his wife Lenora Lapidus and daughter Izzy in Park Slope, Brooklyn. His website is www.mattbialer.com

OTHER TITLES OFFERED BY BIZARRO PULP PRESS!

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by Vincenzo Bilof

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A Lightbulb’s Lament

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A gentleman with a lightbulb for head wakes up in a world full of darkness, hooks up with a beautiful ex-prostitute, and an old man who can heal people; he travels down south to find the mysterious Creator.