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Nov 2014
when the cafe closed
our hearts were broke
and we spilled out slow
crashing milk on a kitchen floor
desperate to expand in any direction
with no destination across black and white tile
our fingers fumbled anxiously
to patch all the leaks
but there were just too many
that the eye could not see
so naturally
the flood unleashed
and all of us
were swept to sea
all including  
you and me


we had begun to lose sight
of reasons for holding a lover close at night
my face feeling safe
in the nook of your neck
our bodies melting
as we slept
now both of us stand
with shrugging hands
when interrogation
comes bursting into our brains
and throws its
coat on the floor
yelling
for what did you do this?
for what was it all for?
and the days where we passed
on buses and bikes have been
all used up
i can't plan a time or a date now
to see you stroll up ditmars
chalk full of confidence
with your hands like fireworks
bite marks and blood at your nails
don't you remember how easy that was?

when you'd come over and roll blunts on a magazine
and i'd never let you sit too close to me
but was always willing to flash enough thigh
just to keep you guessing
i was your goal,
and you were my friend
and everyone here knows
how a goal really ends
it's right back to being disappointed again

now i watch the back
of your black winter coat as you
turn down the moonlit alley
caught dead center
between your place and the cafe
where i hear the voices of our
friends still echo day to day with
green bottles in happy fists
guitars on backs
snow on the ground
light in their eyes
eveytime i walk by
there's cheers for your name
the neighbors are  gonna call the cops again
the yellow booth in the back
where we get snapped at for laughing
too loud too drunk on wine too proud
of  ourselves
and its fine
in retrospect
we were allowed
now the windows are bare
and a green light dimly lit
still sits on the brick glowing reasonlessly
a beacon in the dark for those of us looking

and i saw them remove the sign the other day
now i hear there's gonna be a new cafe
i'll have to stomach the mediocrity every time i go by
i'll have to learn to keep my head straight
and not turn to look down that drive
and we'll have to keep laughing
and we'll have to keep trying
though the ashes have scattered
ill keep the memory alive
MacKenzie J Greer
Written by
MacKenzie J Greer  Queens, NY
(Queens, NY)   
462
   A L Davies
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