Archive
05/06/09 - (2)
Another Night by Myself
How exciting can nights spent by yourself be? I ask myself, far too frequently, These isolated days of my estrangement from love.
And always, the answer that comes echoing back, From my quizzical lips to my skeptical ears, is Not very, I goddamn guarantee you, Queequeg!
But I already knew that. Who wouldn't? After all, hasn't it been a given, since prelapsarian Adam, That primordial Eve resurrected man, from loneliness,
Saved him from squandering the better angels of his nature On the baser distractions of his human perversions — Narcissism, autoeroticism, hubris, boredom?
So what new white whale might be spouting, breaching Off my heart's port or starboard bow, just below the horizon? If only I knew, could prophesy, I'd be Captain Ahab,
Threatening to pierce through the mask, Rip the sun out of the sky, as if it were David's "apple" eye, Were it to get in my way, stop my progress.
But I don't and can't. So much for another night by myself, When not even Mulberry Street's Marco Or Circus McGurkus or the Lorax could possibly save me,
By delivering, from my gaunt rib cage, a lady, to celebrate me, Make me feel wanted, needed, significant, relevant, A piece of, partner with, this otherwise empty evening.
05/06/09 - (2)
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