Clustered around a half deserted bar
Under upturned green lamp shades,
I see no one hiding in the mist:
Only people, in the Monday gloom,
From whom I am separated by
Two panes of glass, and a world.

Catchy choruses of half remembered songs
Swim in and out of my mind's ear,
Accompanied by the sounds of words
I wrote but never said, words
I should have known were shallow.

Are we linked because I knew
The person you wanted me
To think was you?
Or because you tried to write me?
Or because, no matter how I try,
I still cannot exorcise the
Recollection of our mutual destructiveness?

You were always better than me,
With your illusion of depth
And your real music
And your ability to mould yourself
Around what you ought to think.

New buildings are going up here,
As if you care about the world
You never really wanted to inhabit.

Views I'll never show you
Are still as beautiful to me
As they would have been if
Your eyes had ever surveyed them.

Perhaps you'd have objected to
The fact that our streets
Do not run on straight lines,
Because you would find them
As difficult to navigate as
The convoluted city of my mind.

If I made sense, I would
Be able to hate you.

11/25/2002

Posted on 11/29/2002
Copyright © 2024 Richard Vince