Voices on the Wind Obscure Voices
Evolution by Mark Vogel Who gets a haircut in the mall, but a brother loving seductive cookies, gaudy calendars, pulsing green electronics—eager to bring the whole family into the swirl of Babel bathed in warm giant pretzel smell and micro-waved yellow nachos, and live the flowing big hair/ baby-stroller holiday movie. I’d follow my brother anywhere as his presence creates a new world. Soothed by muzak on an exposed Food Court bench, I watch him in his hair salon space capsule, his head increasingly exposed, hair dropping in clumps, ears white huge on a squared head—a trimmed topiary attended by a frosted blonde busy at his shoulder. Before the bright mirror in his swivel chair he is unaware I can’t help but see undeniably, like a labeled photo, how he has become Uncle Charlie’s middle aged stolid clone. How much he detested brash farmer Charlie, rough director of unhip operations barking out commands while smelling of manure. Charlie the Raw, even in church singing hymns like a staff-sergeant dominating the meek. Now that baby brother in this Baby Jesus season is newly formed, who would speak aloud the mid-day truth? And if we did, what then would change? Living as one whole family has re-created us as a special breed, making it impossible for honest knowledge even from a distance to meet. Connected like habit amongst the distracting weird, our simultaneous smiles link, leaving everything left unsaid.