It was all a routine.
The man putting his money in behind me at the T who looked like he wanted to kill me. The drunken man on the train platform needed attention, but no one was willing to give it to him.
Where had my need gone?
I mentioned a name to get a reaction. Watched one dog walk towards another, head down, back straight as if there were no other way to approach. Two joggers passed one another. The sound of feet on pavement and breathing was not alien to me.
A foreign couple, French, made sandwiches on a bench in the cement courtyard. They didn’t know that if they walked a few more blocks the could sit on the grass by the Charles. I wouldn’t tell them.
A broken tooth during a snowstorm and I went to that cheap dentist again. He pulled it out and warned of dry socket. I stood at the bus stop with a sodden wad of gauze covering the wound. Next time, I would try the chain dentist. He and his sassy assistant would get into a fight and he would tell me he was passing a kidney stone, wincing and sweating as he worked on my root canal.
On the plane to California, a famous guitarist was a few seats up. We forgot him quickly in the burnt hills of Malibu, in the smell of sage brush in Santa Barbara, in the sunset at Pismo Beach. San Simeon. Driving on the foggy cliffs with the top down and the heat on. Big Sur. The soulful redwoods. The seals in Monterey. And all the time, missing and missing.
My blue blocker lenses made everything beautiful.
I liked sitting in my cold, dark kitchen alone, drinking wine. Winter wrap me in your thin arms and I will rejoice.
If you can be quiet for just one minute you can hear all of the strange life.
But where did the anger collect?
My eyes formed a bridge with the light from the door. Then I kissed you and the sky opened up with a huge cavity in the clouds that I tried to fill it with the smoke from my cigarette.
I learned to play snooker in Glasgow.
I looked for you in all things.