is there
at every turn
of a corner
down every street
behind each tree
just as you said
it would be
when I swore
to leave you
behind
other writing
on telling time
today
tomorrow
yesterday
they blur
she said
and I don’t
even know
which one
I’m standing
in
how
she asked
do you tell
the difference
and having
once
lived in
a world
like that
all I could
do
was say
it passes
to one
already
gone
too far
to hear
this night
was to be
somehow different
but things
don’t always
work out
that way
this way
some way
and damn
the night air
feels good
on my numb
cheeks
and life
is what it is
as long
as it is
to Chuck on what is not his birthday nor the anniversary of our friendship but what the hell, I don’t care if he doesn’t
well I didn’t go
anywhere
took a nap
cooked broccoli
with linguine
drank half a bottle
of white wine
listened to jazz vocalists
Billie Holiday Norah Jones Shirley Horn
Hillary Kole the Nat King Cole Trio
ate peanuts
watched James Bond
Craig and Dalton
heartless bastards
read a bit
wrote two poems
more of the book
let the cat sleep
on the bed
and screw it
I’m not planning
on dying
anytime
soon
listening to Billie Holiday
body and soul
that voice
brings back memories
of dark bars
Alvin swaying
John Woods’ eyes
closed to some thoughts
he could not escape
and Henry
and secrets
he cannot say
earlier we sat
with Julian pouring rye
into our steins
of draught beer
at the Blarney Stone
cornbeef and cabbage
upper west side
and that voice
haunting our dreams
where oh where
amid the ghosts
of days past
she is there
here
as night falls
and my glass
is filled
and refilled
death will come
to us all
but damn
her voice
keeps it at bay
and they can’t
take that
away
from me
thinking of yet one more friend gone before his time: mostly for Randy
Randy said
David’s gone
and so
one more falls
to a life
lived on an edge
Susu Rob
Judith something
and what about
James
a small group
grown smaller
and I see them
still
the big bear
Rob
teasing about
which way to run
when a grizzly
comes looking
for lunch
Susu’s scam
of a magazine
my first
supposed
publication
and David
his little Indian
pleasing the ladies
and James
ahead of us
a bright star
diminished
by alcohol
others too
I lost track
Randy keeping tabs
upon us all
and mourning
with regrets
we’re running
out of time
he says
our friends
are dying
and how I wish
I could be there
Friday night
to cry with you
old friend
as we watch
the clock
ticking
away
little black dress
little black dress
she wears
that night
and twirls
around the room
you like
she asks
that twinkle
in her eyes
yes
I say
very much
but more
I like
who wears it
she laughs
and twirls
circles
in the room
circles
in my heart
she twirls
on watching John Wayne
he walks
toward trouble
as if it was
of no concern
to him
and trouble
in whatever form
it takes
moves aside
for the big man
it knows
no matter how fast
it draws
how tough
it is
how much abuse
it can take
it is no match
for our hero
who drove cattle
to feed a nation
tamed the West
won the war
was the man
of the hour
any hour
every hour
gave us hope
he would always
be there
when trouble called
until the day
cancer came
and won
the day
as it almost
always does
to heroes
to villians
to us all
outside
the silver screen
in real life
where there are
no rewrites
no retakes
as the cameras
roll
without pause
in our lives
you & me
back & forth
it goes
over & over
again
a ping-pong game
of feelings
never yes
never no
forever
somewhere
in between
holidays
an empty spot
at the table
a conversation
not held
gifts
not given
nor received
a hole
in a life
to be filled
later
at a table
in a home
somewhere
else
Leonard Durso 