3/10/10 – 3/11/19

1.

it was unseasonably warm that day
and the day before, too,
and it was windy. I remember that much,
and the sun in my eyes
on the patio
through the plate glass
on the short drives
here to there and here to there
while our friends traveled through Germany
for the sixth or seventh time

there was nothing but time then
drinking black coffee in jackets
with the traffic hustling by
whispering about ‘forever’ at 20
and I remember meaning what I said out there
and I remember the look in her eyes

2.

Time has a way of stopping sometimes
with a phone call for example
in a tacky Chinese restaurant
surrounded by our people
while the sun set just outside

and I told the people what I heard
after I pressed the End Call button
while our hearts all stopped beating
forever, I think,
for just a moment

3.

I drove to her in darkness
and she was all alone
when she let me in to her sitting room

There were no lights on
but she could see me
and she hated every word

I don’t know if I’d leave her now
but I left her then,
nine years ago

4.

We sat in a cafe
in silence
for what couldn’t have been
forever
and my tea got cold
as the weather had
that night

we talked about your boots
not in detail
but we did

5.

I remember you
Warmth in March
sun in the afternoon

I remember you
black coffee
downtown patio

friends in rooms
and cars
and futures
and that goddamn
cul-de-sac

I remember you

and I miss you

boots and all

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old songs

my life in memory

is beautiful and eternal

it includes

dramatic retellings

and for moments in real-time

i can spend years in the past

and all the people

whom i’ve torn apart

are there in whole

we never waste time to catch up

and we just pretend like nothing

ever changed.

memory

it might have happened
or it might not have,
it’s so hard to be sure
of anything these days.
and if it did,
and i’m not sure it did,
what was it like?
i just can’t seem to see it anymore,

because one minute it’s tall
and the next it’s so small,
one minute i’m afraid
and then i’m filled with rage,
and the truth is so hard to decipher,
when i’m purposefully fooling myself
each and every day,
going entirely off of a memory,
held together only in an imperfect mind,
not holding the truth,
but only interpretations
that may or may not be
factually and empirically true.