You and I came to New York both looking for something we'll never find together.  At dawn in the rain we crossed the Bronx which looked like an old home of mine which looked like a nightmare of yours. You driving searching for the freeway of eternal order me beside you hoping for the symphony of traffic to drown out the roaring loneliness in my ears.  You cursing the potholes toll bridges garbage me elated seeing millions of people knowing none of them knew me allowing me to fulfill the ragged dreams of myself.

 

Came to the  house of my sister who is my sister attempted through words to vindicate or at least explain motion and lost time smiled again realizing words can never correspond to a real image anymore though tastes sweet on the tongue.  And you hiding in the shadow of your own creation which is a dead black weight to me and you'll never understand the burden you offer which bends my back I'll never muster enthusiasm for two.  You somehow reconciled to a life of passionless bickering never knowing how the word complacent would seal my fate.  You never knowing that your hard beautiful face flushing resistance to me deadens the nerves I have worked for years to reveal.

 

And in the shadow of the Empire State building I swam in the enfolding currents of living flesh hearing the echo of a million ghosts who are my brothers you clutching your carefully counted dollars annoyed at the rate of exchange.  Finally at the edge of sleep I offered you the last thing I have to give you which is my body through which you could touch my soul but you can only touch a body rank with armpit and asshole never surrendering beyond a deodorant consciousness.

 

And when I weep in New York or anywhere I weep alone you merely massaging my muscles thinking my body has a cramp but my soul is pinched and withered you could only ease my cramp through surrender.  Now you and I are forever alone in New York and anywhere else that we find ourselves together we'll never get lost in each others shadow we'll never go hand in hand toward the light you'll never surrender your silence I can't remember my dreams and the word complacent has been etched over the tomb of our love.

 

 

- March 25, 1977