Monday, August 21, 2017

When I was a boy, I looked at an eclipse with my bare eyes in The South Bronx of burnt out buildings.

A strange thing happened afterward.

A bright light appeared in front of my bedroom window, as did a hurricane inside my room that scattered my comic books around, among other objects.

I was being pulled into the light.

It was sheer force of will that prevented the little boy I was from disappearing into another dimension.

I wasn’t ready for a new reality.

This is the persistence of my memory. 

I recall being gifted in childhood with photographic memory and creativity.

I remember doctors that wanted to administer a new drug designed to dissolve a gland in the head of the little boy I was.

 I stared into the eyes of a doctor. He didn’t give me the drug.

The place where it happened was destroyed.

Today, it’s a parking lot of sorts for The New York City Police Department.

In The New Millennium, a young American man tried to get inside the building my mother has resided in for decades.

 He identified himself as Mark Wilson, a reporter for The New York Post.

He wanted to interview eyewitnesses to several bright lights across the building that hovered for a few seconds before taking off at unbelievable speed.

I studied pictures on his cell phone. 

Mister Wilson, I am sure you are reading this, as I am sure of scientific evidence to prove aliens have been on this gem of a planet for thousands of years.

One of the aliens is called poverty.

Make with the mild mannered reporter thing and help change the world for the best.

I am transmitting this final message from a public library in The South Bronx.

Afterward, I will go out into the street and look into the eclipse.

I wasn’t ready to leave the world when I was a kid.

I am ready

Now


My Re@l Life @s @ Comic Book

New York Radiology made MRI of my brain. Conceptual art and text by

D@niel @ngel @ponte

Copyrighted 2017