|
one deck wally
|
the road is not the sea,
but you can peddle
and bleed into inlets
much the same.
in the same way that how different could anyone's day be from yours?
a call from a friend
they're waiting at a bar
where nobody needs to know
your name but you tell them anyways.
and the bartender will give little
worlds in saleable units
"what'll you have?"
and your girlfriend also called,
the pretty one,
and be solipistic all day
go ahead,
but you know she'll be
off being beautiful elsewhere.
say to yourself you let her go
and she changed in a quantum
leap, get around all of that
otherness.
whether it's a world outside,
you're not the only driver
on the road you can imagine
someone screaming.
or whether she is smoldering
into something in your
subconscious -
it doesn't really matter.
the spindly legs you walk
on around her,
the spindly words you use
for her, may need updating.
when suddenly she is
beautiful elsewhere.
other cars on the freeway
all merge like they're the center
a tug of war physics
of stability.
at the bar you may meet someone
who would never begrudge
anyone love, but himself.
you call another friend,
who never calls you back.
just tell me you say
just tell me if you don't want
to be friends.
i'm bad at taking hints.
hope springs eternal you'll say.
whoever first said that,
you probably wouldn't have known
even if you had lived when they
lived.
somewhere some beautiful
girl that you'll never fuck
when she's in the primacy
of her youth -
is being born.
and of course there is a peculiar
insect you'll one day see
on a leaf that makes a striking
contrast - in later chapters.
and now you're driving to the bar
you're surrendering it all?
why? because why?
magnanimous? wisened?
because no matter what
it will always be something
beautiful elsewhere.
cowardly? what does it matter?
if it's mine, if it's not,
it's elsewhere to someone,
i'm elsewhere to someone.
little beauty tug of war
and her in that dress,
pulls center, gives center
who can be closer than that
in one night? in a thousand nights?
i'll line up all of them -
the girl i haven't fucked,
the friend who isn't my friend,
the insect on the leaf,
you in that dress being beautiful
elsewhere.
one by one drink them back
as the bar crowd
resonates with each.
as i pull center
with each movement
that is penultimately
what they are there for.
|
050624
|
