Being in a 51 Chevy
The dream started simple enough
I was a kid back in the old neighborhood
but I wasn’t a kid
I was an old man like I am now
but I felt like a kid
and everybody who saw me
saw me as kid
and I felt great
I felt like running
and I ran fast without even
having to breathe
and I ran from the park to the avenue
and there were great big planes flying overhead
and low flying jets
and the avenue was packed
but I ran not even touching the ground
and the people let me through without moving
and there were kids
kids I didn’t know
but they let me play with them anyway
and we played rough
but it was ok
cause there were big kids around
watching out for us
tough guys and pretty girls
and they were there for us
and their moms were looking out the windows
watching out for them
and we were playing rough
and it was ok
and no one could tell I was an old man
not even me
and the big kids came over
and jostled us a little
and the girls were smiling
and I said hi I’m joey
and they knew me right away
and we started talking about everybody we knew
and all the stuff we did together
all of us
and I started crying
cause we were all the same
we were all the same
and it has been so long
since we were all the same
and a big kid said don’t cry it’s ok
we are all the same
and somebody’s father came along
and we were going for a ride in a 51 Chevy
and us little kids packed into the back seat
which was big, big enough to fit us all
and we felt even smaller in there
but we could see out the windows
it was night and the city was streaming by
filled with noise and music and the smell of food
and the grownups were shooting guns
but we were ok cause they were grownups
so we were safe
and a kid took out a bottle
of some crazy soap bubble mix
that had sparkly stuff
and all the colors in the world in it
and we were gonna drink it
and it was gonna be great
even though it was soap bubble stuff
and we did drink it
and wow
I just wooshed right out of that Chevy
like a the low flying jet
and I was above the city
and the city was everywhere
and it was Egyptian and Chinese
Roman and Gothic
inscribed, etched ,carved, and sculptured
and there were bridges
that spanned other bridges
and there were buildings
inside of other buildings
and people everywhere
and I knew them
millions of people and I knew them all
and I knew their ancestors
and where they were buried
and I knew their children
and where they went to school
and I knew who their teachers were
and I was them and they were me
and we were all the same
and I woke up crying
because we were all the same
and it’s been so long
since we were all the same.
Joe Bocchicchio currently lives and writes in Kent, Ohio, although he was born in Brooklyn, NY, and his work has been published in Upstreet, Jawbone, and Cutthroat. Certified in Public Health, he works in community mental health and much of his writing is driven by the tragedies and triumphs of those who are afflicted with mental illness and by those who labor on their behalf.
