poem of the day 04.08.15

here is where we all begin again

right here

in this bar that we’ve been avoiding for months

there were so many good times

there have been hours lost in the drink

that i don’t mind getting back

on a saturday afternoon that’s too cold for late march

the last two seats at the bar

motown playing like a portent of good things to come

a half block of rubble two blocks away

two dead bodies that they haven’t found yet

but will have by the night

when we’re already home and working on the wine

here

right here

with seth at the end of the bar pouring pints

for the same people that were sitting statues the last time we left

here is where the pieces fall into place

and years can slip back into common, tangible moments

here is where the storm ends and the sun comes out

another new york city story

another tragedy reaching for the light

two pints of dark beer

and a basket of greasy popcorn

seth now pouring us two chilled vodka shots as payment

for talking our ears off about his ex-girlfriend

just like he did all summer

when we and cancer came in here incognito

to hear his tales of woe and to forget our own

before we forgot here

right fucking here

with the neon reflecting red off the faces

of young women too dumb on their cell phones to notice

that right here

right in this moment

is where we rise

where we all begin again