“State of Confusion” – Monika Groppe

“Where are we going again?” the young boy
asked as his father began pulling out maps
for the family trip. “The grand ole State of
Confusion!” the father replied, flattening
the maps on the table. “I grew up there, in a tiny
brick house on the upper west side of the
state, shimmering Lake of Lost Reflections
in our back yard.  Never was there a dull
moment! People didn’t move like they do
here. as if they are giant chess pieces
moving directly from one square to
another. In the State of Confusion,
everyone holds their breath and swims
toward their destination, letting bubbles
tickle their face as they go. When they tire,
they turn over on their backs and float
until their energy is regained. At times,
you wouldn’t get to where you intended
for the current was strong, as if powered
by Fate.” “But dad, I thought you didn’t know
how to swim!” “I can’t, son. But in The State
of Confusion everybody does things they
don’t know how to do. Babies whale
with a suckling sense of justice, children’s
feet no longer touch the ground
when they reach their parent’s age,
grown up. Adults sit and talk for
hours and hours without doing a single
thing. It’s a miraculous place, really.”
“Why did you leave then, dad?” “Because,
son, I thought I knew better.”