Apologia
Apologia
Even if you aren’t reading this,
…this moment,
…these words…
this testament
is for all of you,
as well as for each of you…
the heroines
of all my never-ending
torch songs.
Perhaps I wasn’t your best friend after all,
but not for nothing…
you can’t say I didn’t try.
I’m a weaver of dreams,
a conjuror of spells,
but I fear that
the realities
I brought you
did not live up
to the Great Expectations
I inspired
until I had thoroughly
disappointed
the Dickens out of you.
“I’m sorry”
I say
“Is there nothing I can do?”
I ask
as you sadly shake your head (“no”).
(Also not for nothing)
as a small part of me dies
inside.
This is what I do
time and again.
‘til you’d think
I would grow weary of it,
but no, I just grow so very,
very…very weary
of letting you down again.
I didn’t want to be that guy…
after all…
I was the guy who taught you
Grand Theft Auto
(and not the video game…)
The guy who took you
camping, or
fishing, or
smuggling,
or diving
or hunting
or running guns
or forbidden contraband
across state lines,
screwing
like cats in heat
at turnpike rest stops,
driving too many hours
with too little sleep
were it not for
“better living through chemistry”
.
You were the first to jump right in with me
scoring,
or eating
or snorting
or smoking
or shooting
or vaporizing
whatever magic
helped raise the ante
back when it was still fun
to live dangerously and without fear…
walking past chalklines
to do the Devil’s bidding
like it was a game of (hip-) hop-scotch
when copping a feel
or stolen kisses
still took
our breath away.
I was the guy
your parents
warned you about
even after they found me
charming, witty
and bright,
because they didn’t know
I was that other guy…
Of course that was
a big part
of the appeal….
I was the Serpent in the Garden
and you were my
Primordial Eve.
You became my
co-conspirator.
You followed me to
sleazy clubs
in basements
underground
or
practice houses
in bad neighborhoods,
a haunted house
way out in the country
next to a cemetery
where
no one else would live
or warehouse districts
or
wherever I could find a place
to play guitar
so loud you thought your
eyeballs would bleed
and your ears would ring for weeks
afterward,
where we would hold out
like outlaws
day and night.
You went with me
to pistol ranges,
rifle ranges,
and dojos,
living in houses
filled with
guns and ammo
(not the magazine….),
the walls of entire rooms
lined with amplifiers to the ceiling,
guarded by dangerous-looking dogs
who loved you
almost as much as me
and
would have killed for you
just as you would have for me
or I for you
even when it seemed like that moment
was just around the next turn in the story
and there was a knife and a gun
in every drawer
and under each pillow.
We slept in tents,
on floors
in cars and trucks,
or high-rise apartments
overlooking the bay
that we could never afford
were it not for the
generous benefactors
we chose to entertain.
We watched porn together.
We made porn together
and everything we did
was either Art or Music.
We painted everything in sight.
We sketched and photographed
each other
while we played and sang
with such conviction
I don’t know how
our hearts didn’t burst.
We learned to dance
the Apocalypso
on the razor’s edge
‘til dawn
and got up and did it
all over again.
We drove way too fast
through downtown traffic
any time of day
whichever way we were going,
or late at night
along the beach
or up on the Interstate,
illuminated by
flamingo-pink
sodium vapor lights;
stopping on the causeways
overlooking Biscayne Bay
just long enough
to remind each other of who we were
and just where we were
just then.
When every moment alive together
was a miracle.
We fucked on the perimeter road
around MIA
with the planes
maybe a hundred feet
above our heads,
engines screaming
and one eye
looking out for cops
with nothing better to do
than to wish
they could have been us.
No matter where we went
or what we did
it seemed like
I could talk my way
into or out of
anywhere or anything
and charm the birds
from out of the trees,
particularly
if it meant staying out of jail
…or worse
(and most especially if I thought
it might impress you.)
But most of all,
I let every one of you down
in one way or another.
…so many memories
of that defining moment
when you knew it was over,
leaving me to figure it all out later….
I played grasshopper to your ant
well into our winter of discontent.
It didn’t turn out
happily ever after…
it never has
and probably never will,
for me or you….
Maybe it never does.
I just hope you can look back
and remember
those few golden moments we shared
with the same fondness,
with the same lack of reservations
we shared back then
before we gave a thought
to how it all might end,
because it was the beginnings
and everything
in between
that made it all worthwhile
for me…
and each ending too beautifully
poignantly sad
to just be forgotten
back when I was just me
and you were just you
before we ever thought about tomorrow….
If I had the chance
to do it all over again
I’d do it all over you.
It just took me too long to realize
that just not being
a bad person
didn’t
necessarily
make me
a very good person.
(…but not for nothing)
You can’t say I didn’t try.
Quite a few did some of it with me.
A few did most of it with me.
Who can say they did all of it,
and gave their all
with all of me?
(You know who you are,
n’est-ce pas?)
Just you…
Because before there was you and me,
Darlin’
each one of the others
saw something special
to show me about myself
that took me higher,
‘tho some cut me low
before they were thru.
But I cannot deny
each one didn’t teach me
a thing or two
I hadn’t yet learned
so that maybe
it wouldn’t happen
the same way
to me and you.
So here we are now
just you and just me
and those wantonly
willing hostages
whomever
we take
as we continue
together
until
The End.
November 15, 2014 at 10:42 pm
interesting read this dreary morning as I wander through cyberspace…
I hope all is well in your world these days….
Take Care….You Matter…
)0(
maryrose
November 19, 2014 at 8:49 am
These last six months have been some of the hardest of my life…Sela…I have this expectation that all this painful “growth” will lead to some epiphany that will make this all worth while…I may be too optimistic, but that’s just the way I roll. I am determined to stay positive.
Good to hear from you again.