Monday, December 1, 2014

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


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