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The Virginia Chronicles

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by Jason Anderson




  Forward to the Virginia Chronicles

  This is my first foray into self-publishing. I wrote this cycle of poems in early 2013, when I finally began to revisit memories of my childhood I thought I’d outrun or outgrown. As it turns out they were all still there, in living color, waiting to be given their moment in the summer sun.

  There’s so much I want to tell you, so much I want to say. And if you care to listen, though I can’t promise a literary masterpiece or a work of genius, I can relate a very imperfect adventure, some honesty and some truth.

  Jason Anderson

  New York City, 2014

  I.

  The Virginia Chronicles

  Prologue

  heat

  pressures

  diamonds

  from black afternoons

  and lightning!

  lightning cuts

  them

  Jason of Alexandria

  The Virginia Chronicles, Part I

  Abused myths and tortured legends

  construction paper-pasted

  glittering without reason

  except a five-year-old's questions

  how did they forget the whole 13th floor?

  I get hell if I forget to brush!

  well maybe it’s fingers

  between 12 and 14

  like sliding utility

  closet doors, or eyes

  forced open, like “a epiphany”

  (he beams proudly, silently knowing

  he can spell it, too)

  well it’s drama, why all the wailing

  when Alexandria falls nightly

  sick people leaning dangerously over balconies

  to look in a kid's bedroom window

  everyone with fingers stopping

  their ears but not his

  at night he wraps himself in covers

  listens to the sirens going by

  he doesn’t get 13 but sure as hell

  after the refuse burns

  and the laundry room

  the boys’ bodies

  in the January pool

  the windshield brick

  an 11th-floor bedroom

  window face where

  no face should be

  the closet doors

  the kitchen floor

  chin up

  mouth shut

  to a mast

  lashed

  he

  knows

  one hundred sirens sing nightly

  for him and him

  alone

  Diamond Eyes

  The Virginia Chronicles, Part II

  six

  cobalt, hazel, gray pools

  shaded by fair woods

  hot springs in gentle snow

  where frosted monkeys and

  goosebumped humans huddle

  a tattooed world of pink and yellow

  countries flies off its giggling axis

  just like it was meant

  the quiet things are

  noted by their absence

  and ice finds release

  Lords and Lady of the Summer Land

  The Virginia Chronicles, Part III

  Once long ago in a place known as Falls Church

  The Diamond Realm was the notorious domain

  Of a young queen and two young kings, a Narnian trio

  Related by the hope that ran in their veins

  Queen Jewel the Eldest stood tall and proud

  A sword and fleur-de-lys her insignia

  K. the Righteous wore a golden crown

  And last, but not least, was Jason of Alexandria

  Lords and Lady of a summer land twist-crossed

  By wandering avenues and shaded after-

  Noons cooled by soft sky-faced rains and

  Gentle-eyed diamond laughter

  Royalty with much in common

  From distant lands brought to reign

  Only children of only mothers

  More than siblings – the same

  They would slip away often, proving their land

  No fence in the realm held them in or out

  Wild cats, canines and kids fell in line

  When the Lady and Lords went marching about

  It’s said -- people whisper still today --

  Not a single man, woman or child

  During the entire Diamond Reign

  Of or dear to the kingdom died

  Stewards they were of the crabapple orchard

  Masters of fortresses impenetrable

  Exclusive formulators of the Secret Formula

  And keepers, keepers

  of the gross menagerie

  The Maverick

  The Virginia Chronicles, Part IV

  “Another no-hitter for the Mavericks.”

  At eight he thought all baseball games started

  with the Star-Spangled Banner and ended

  with that.

  Really, they started with kids who could throw and catch

  and ended with kids who could hit

  so where did that

  leave him?

  Right field.

  The other diamond king commanded first

  the queen reigned from the mound

  all matching in the Mavericks’ patriotic uniform –

  blue ball cap and shirt

  and bright

  red

  knees.

  During one game their second baseman was grounded

  by a line drive to center chest.

  The Mavericks lost that game.

  Once at bat he himself was cuffed by a suspiciously

  stray pitch to the ear guard

  (which doesn’t guard so much as

  distribute

  pain evenly).

  He walked, but still the Mavericks lost.

  And came the notorious day

  practice wasn’t called off for weather --

  the Mavericks needed practice more

  than Falls Church needed rain

  but lightning didn’t know that

  and struck

  the big pine

  by the backstop

  and the coach swore

  and he swore

  he would never, ever go back.

  He didn’t.

  And the Mavericks

  began

  to

  win!

  And they won.

  And they won and won and won.

  His diamond-eyed friends begged him back

  their line-up lonely of freckles

  but as a solid team player, he had to refuse:

  he single-handedly started a winning streak

  and didn't

  want

  to lose.

  The Gross Menagerie

  The Virginia Chronicles, Part V

  In bright gusts a perpetual chorus

  Carries my young refrain

  I’d burst afire on May’s crushing beat

  But for the cicada's antipyretic thrill

  I studied the brown shell crouched low

  Looked it dead in the eye as it prayed

  Til squinty-eyed, sidewalk-kneed and satisfied

  There was nobody inside

  Around it delicate fingers I wrapped

  And ran cicada-palmed, wind on bright skin

  To the secret shed where we Diamond Monarchs

  Cloistered against heavy old glances

  Two watched with two frowns as I cleared a shelf

  Clutching to my chest the careful shell

  “This is what cicadas are,” I exclaimed

  “It’s how they win!”

  Three knew because I knew

  Because sister and brother will know

  Things just because you do<
br />
  “My new coat of arms – I want them, every one!”

  And the hunt was on from trunks to lawns

  Three grabbing skins fast as they could be shrugged

  We gathered up every past life we could hold

  And set them in ranks on the royal shed shelf

  “They’re the Gross Menagerie!” delighted K. the Righteous

  As spring clouds tossed tin diamonds on the roof

  We stared down eighty monstrous shells

  And they prayed vaguely back

  “They’re monstrous,” decreed Julie the Eldest

  “And should be banished for seventeen years”

  But she saw what I saw because I saw it

  And felt what I felt

  We consulted Encyclopedia Britannica Volume C

  Puzzling out with help from the Legends of Old

  A cicadan mythology

  Cursed at birth to live dark earthen decades

  One season they rise and burst from their skins

  Which they leave in plain sight of bullies

  For beaks and jaws to find nothing inside

  A new winged creature takes alight

  The male with a simple song in his belly

  And though he calls out alone at the start

  He chorus is joined by the millions

  For a season the canopy resounds

  With an opus of rushes and rests

  Borrowing cricket’s rhythm, lightning’s roar

  And the lullaby of the sated creek

  The point of all of this cacophony

  Is simply to lure women to their arboreal beds

  (Cue blushes on six royal cheeks)

  From eggs tucked into branchy marrow

  Newly-hatched nymphs tumble

  To ground, burrowing deep

  For seventeen years to sleep

  Like old beasts whirl their last on a sidewalk

  To the delight of dogs and six-year-olds

  And a sultry buzz evaporates in degrees

  From a breeze without notice

  Childish interest declines from branches

  And bugs, and two command a shelf

  Cleared of a Gross Menagerie

  I kept a single crumbling souvenir

  To the teachings of a little cicada

  His skin but a parchment scrap

  Wrapping something inside that sings

  A song but a breath on leaves

  Sung to fill darkness with diamonds

  That seventeen years on, or thirty-four

  They too will find release

  And sing to rain diamonds in darkness

  Lift a crushing season with a chorus

  And soothe brash rhythm for a measure

  With an antipyretic thrill

  Lightning

  The Virginia Chronicles, Part VI

  A summer house

  once open

  was never closed.

  Tall grasses

  bend and nod

  to secrets on

  young breath.

  The grass

  never tells:

  how summer

  sun rashes

  brash skin

  reddens cheeks

  how bugs seek

  strange places

  and burrow in

  how sweat

  stings sunburn

  -- how breath

  somewhere

  above the

  shoulder blades

  in damp heat

  is cool like

  lightning.

  A body like that

  can perform miracles

  with a skateboard

  and a Huffy

  and girlfriends in

  faraway cities

  met on long-ago

  vacations

  a body like that

  moves like slow

  summer lightning

  a body with

  sunny hair

  and fair-weather

  eyes

  shadow-danced

  by puffy cumulus

  in which secrets

  like life

  and I

  must reside

  and in the grass

  as the grass yields

  knowingly.

  The smell of

  cigarettes

  on breath and fingers

  mixed with

  bike grease

  dirt

  and something

  richer

  broken rules

  camaraderie

  brotherhood

  a lightening

  the bare whiff

  of a promise

  made in absence

  of arms that

  will unfold

  soon

  from this chrysalis

  and set its contents

  flying free.

  It echoes thunder

  an ancient whisper

  on southerlies

  wearing the

  sacred scent

  of an innocent fire

  involving brush

  and redemption.

  Old Dominion

  The Virginia Chronicles, Part VI

  Charred broken grass on a shoulder

  Blackened headlight cowl, melted mud guard

  Racy mirrored ornament

  unbroken

  Smokey Sunday smiles cross the road

  Bright tents, hot sauce and burnt offerings

  Shining and black under summer's pressure

  together

  Slate armies surmount the hills

  Grasses surrender, kid laughs scatter

  With dandelion seeds, flocking in

  unison

  Three friends knotted together, gathered

  From elsewhere and destined to return

  But in the short span joined as

  one

  Amid the acquiescent grass

  A boy of a promised age and build

  Arms strong enough to hold a diamond

  intact,

  and a heart strong enough to break it

  along its proper faults

  Fall, and the advent of a blacktop sprint

  a fifty year dash

  Watch from offsides, how they all go

  But at fourteen, at forty I’ll still be the

  same

  I remember black skies and sirens

  Tortured myths and legendary friends

  A summer realm of baseball

  Magic cicadas and left-behind skins

  In secretive lightning-struck grass

  and the inevitable fall

  and frozen aftermath

  When I recall my old dominion

  The remainder not lost but cast away

  whole

  Like barbeque bones, grassy secrets and kid tears

  That only someone else’s cousin hears

  The Crabapple Wars

  The Virginia Chronicles, Part VII

  BBs scattered in the grass

  like the droppings of steel rabbits

  who ran at first proof of their strength.

  Squeezes under the tall wood fence

  daily resurrections into our Terabithia

  public poolside, in visible earshot of squealing kids

  who summer lightning sends slithering out like evolution

  on black afternoons

  and which lightning razor-cuts existence to

  marrow:

  two small boys and a small girl

  – us

  before our brief union crumbled

  calendared departures left us premature leavings

  and the Crabapple Wars --

  hybrids of remembered laughter

  and misdirected revenge

  black storms of gooey red and green hail

  rattled windows and hectic mothers

  battles leveled against horizoning unknowns

  from strong limbs of womb-heavy trees

  – where, three maddening cicadas,
we sing

  a lilting, taunting refrain.

  As bittersweet ammo depletes

  bark paints higher-climbing thighs

  an angry

  red

  welt

  above

  the eye

  and we run at proof of our strength

  – or cast again with steeled resolve

  a judgment on all we will vanish from

  like lightning forgetting a certain sky

  leaving diamonds

  faceted, our common structure

  remembering a summer song

  scattered along

  the grassy earth.

  Prelude to a City of Ice

  As this shaded moon makes its closest approach

  and dusk gathers her curtain I pause

  to whisper something direct to you

  the only truth I claim to know:

  lightning cuts diamonds, my friend, and

  where black-skied rains fall, things grow.

  *

  The Virginia Chronicles, Part IX

  *

  I am five years old. I sleep in a bedroom in the sky, beneath a big window that invites the sirens of Alexandria’s nightly fall. The window is next to our balcony and has a face in it. It is always a goofy face, laughing. Everything’s fun, it's all a game and I’m just a poor sport. I don’t understand the rules and suspect I'm not meant to win, and I hate games like that.

  *

  I am not here. I exist in a place you can’t touch. I think it’s sorry you want to touch a body with nobody inside. Sting away, cicada wasp, I’m not in my skin. You’re stupid and will die hungry, and I will sing from the treetops. I am six.

  *

  I am sure of everything, one thing after the other. It’s a maddening buzz. It all turns to dandelion seeds dancing out of reach. My arms are still short, and my eye-hand coordination sucks (says my Little League coach). I leave the field.

  *

  We squeal out of the pool when the lightning comes and shiver under a roof next to the lifeguard. My fear knows an overhang isn’t safety. Once I opened my mouth, and I got made fun of and told I was disrespecting authority. So I shut up and accept a stupid death, because adults know everything but protect me from nothing. I am eight.

  *

  Confusion. Each chromosome unsure of its place and doubting its allegiance, every cell a mercenary. I'm a black hole, absorbing everything. Light has no hope of escape.

 

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