after the summer,
i cut my hair
and went to work at a grocery store
stocking shelves 3rd shift
the manager took a liking to me
and i soon went full-time
and got the department managers job
over dairy and frozen food
i began dating a cashier there
who shared my love
for fast cars, rock’n’roll
and hard liquor
i knew it was over between us
when she left for college in the fall
and turned to the bottle for comfort,
anything to numb the pain of loneliness
wondering if i would ever be loved again
the way she loved me
in that summer
circa 1989
(i remember everything--
the stolen kisses,
the passion,
the late-night strolls
around the river
but now,
we walk on different shores)
“you look like you just lost your best
friend,”
the old man said to me
as we sat in the upstairs breakroom
his name was James
and he had worked in the meat department
for nearly 40 yrs.
we talked about our favorite science
fiction movies
and shared many stupid jokes
as we ate cold chicken from the store’s
deli
he had a way of saying things
so i could understand
“true happiness comes from within,”
he told me
“nobody can make you happy
you must be happy with yourself
before you can be happy with someone
else”
i started seeing this girl
who wanted me to write her a poem
so i wrote one about her first cousin
who was going out with my best friend
at the time
i got hooked on the girl
and started thinking about the long-term
prospect for us
“i’m a beautiful girl,” she said
“but not the kind you take home to meet
the family
i am the kind to take you home, though”
she took me by the hand
and took me to her room...
i began searching for the ultimate high
nothing mattered anymore
after another failed relationship
except for having a good time
i dropped some acid with this girl
i met at the Sting concert
when Dada opened
circa 1993
and watched as she became a younger
version
of myself
when i was 17 yrs. old
newly reborn
then watched horrified
as she morphed into the man
whose body i saw
wash ashore when i was a little boy
building castles in the sand
decomposition had set in
and there were holes where his eyes
used to be
i withdrew from the girl instantly
in a state of revulsion
and settled on a course
with my death as the destination
writing the eulogy my ghost would deliver
you must understand
how close i came to ending it
the gun was in my hand
with a bullet that had my name on it
in the chamber
a voice in my head stopped me,
the voice of my mother calling out:
“come home, son
you’ve been running too long”
yrs. of disillusionment passed as i
began my journey,
slowly returning to where i came from
9 yrs. later,
i’ve been born again
circa 1996