poem of the day 12.01.14

the great night of 2003

you were the first to admit

that it was a great night

a friday night in brooklyn

without the gang members on the street

or the guardian angels

saying hello to us as we entered the apartment

or that pit-bull roaming around

without a leash

a great night

one-half a magnum bottle of white

waiting for us after the horror of the f train

and then the little red bar on carroll street

selling vodka lemonades for three bucks a pint

because no one ever went in there

it was such a great night

sitting in that bar with  you

having four of those vodka lemonades

with the russian bartender

they complemented the white wine, i thought

you wanted burmese food

and i guess i wanted burmese food too

or to sit in that bar drinking vodka and lemonade

talking with the russian and playing springsteen songs

like some kind of strange glasnost

to keep pretending that brooklyn was paradise

instead of a sweltering shit-hole

of cockroaches, gang members

and stolen wallets

bass from the asshole living upstairs

it was such a great night

fingering you in the f train on the way to manhattan

your hands down my pants

the sloppiest people moaning

on the train that night

stopping into mcsorely’s

because the tourists had all gone home for the summer

round after round of dark beer

two mugs for three-fifty for such a good night

falling on the sawdust floor

while trying for handful of magic

and even with the burmese place closed

it was such a great night

spilling a pitcher of coke all over a famous ray’s pizza

on st. marks

yelling at each other over the hum and buzz

of a friday night

we’d been drowning in now for hours

and when our heroes showed up at our table

two jesus freaks with business cards

and rosaries

who asked us if we needed

their spiritual help

it was like they were all a part of the great night

that we were having

even though i threatened them with a fork

and our soggy pizza

at just about the time you got up

and ran out onto broadway

where i chased you two blocks

sweating wine and vodka and beer and coke

to have it out like a couple

of minor characters in another new york city drama

our great night

where people passed this holy shouting

like it was nothing out of the ordinary

and i made you give me back

the engagement ring

pretending to throw it down bond street

while you waited

for the glitter and the ting that

never came

then the two of us huddled by

that parking garage

the worst year that we’d had so far together

clasping each other in grips of fear of death

and i put that ring back on your finger

like a promise that the next year

would be better

and the next one after that

our life a lifetime

of great nights

yet to come