poem of the day 06.13.14

twins

hungover on 3^rd avenue

just standing there

when he gets right up in my face

he points to my goatee

and then his own

do you, do you think i could get my goatee

that long one day?

i’d once watched him eat an entire hero sandwich

off of his barrel chest on the B4 bus

anything is possible, i tell him

look, look, he says, excitedly

we both got salt and pepper in our hair

yes, we’re both old

we’re like twins

almost, i say

i check my watch

wonder what is taking my wife so long

in the goddamned bagel store

i’m forty-four, he tells me

forty-four and wearing american flag suspenders

i’m forty, i answer

because…why in the fuck not?

ah, we’re both generation x

still stuck in the melancholy

and infinite sadness, i tell him

we had the best music, he says

the beatles, the stones, the who

the doors, the monkees, and the dead

that was our parents music, i say

we had cobain, 2pac, and a bunch of other crap

he frowns

i keep thinking of that sandwich on his chest

the way he picked away at the lettuce

and mayonnaise covered meat

until he had nothing but stains left on his t-shirt

it was the closest i’d ever seen

to anyone being truly free in public

the beatles were our music, too, he says

if you say so, pal, i answer

twins, he says one more time

then he waddles on down the block

to the music of a couple of teenagers

pointing and laughing behind his back

and it’s really just one more thing in this world

that he and i have in common.