Dark Poetry Prose Poetry November 27, 2003 Dark Poetic Prose

11-27-03 thursday 9:15pm brick NJ thanksgiving

cold and empty like holiday evenings after the carcass has been picked clean. nothing on tv. open boxes and crumpled wrapping paper shiny memories. all that's left of the celebration. the hopeful songs and the spirit of in decay.

half eaten pies of various flavorings. and mounds of mashed potatoes. green bean caseroles no one has touched. bloated stomachs. and triptophan induced comas.

solemn and serene like christmas eve. when the world is still asleep anticipating in their various dreams. when the presents are gathering under the trees. and the crinkle of wrapping paper being folded is the only sound left. while children dream of santa claus and greed. parents hurry to fulfill their wishes. and the rest of us just hope to sleep as long as we can.

when one more beer you hope will be enough to take your sight and make it effortless. to close your eyes and forget again the world that dreams do not. all that breathing and labor toward ends you still don't know what.

and all those calls that i don't know why they come. hurried conversations while you are en route to some other destination. it's a comfort to know that you still think of me now and then. but it grieves me what once was so expansive has been confined to this.

i never wanted to change your life. or for you to change mine. i always wanted everything to stay just as it was. only to be with you so often. only to love as we could. no more. no less. without the threat of. but that can never be. it just won't let. and as i struggle with the waiting for love to cede to friendship, this whole scenario of life seems self-defeating. that everything we have to live for only seeks to kill us.