Page 25 - Demo

Bozo's Obstacle11Where Legs May LeadHe sits on a Metro platform bench,bare legs swollen beyond imagining,grotesque, and splotched purple, likefungus on decaying tree stumps. His feetare disfigured, fleshy, immense, in corksoled sandals held together with twine.Cracked nails curve like claws, extendingwell beyond the toes. His head sinks down,chin crumpled into clavicle, like a marionettehanging from a nail. Approaching the upescalator, I am winded by the sight,and mentally break my stride, but keepwalking, pretending to be focusedon my destination. Going up,I resist the urge to look back, unlikethe teenage couple in front of me. The boypoints, and asks the girl, %u201cDid you see his legs?%u201dThey laugh without restraint. I wonderwhether he hears them above the screechof the advancing train, how he%u2019ll ever board,where he%u2019ll go, and what he%u2019ll do.