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In Search of Love’s Mythology

It’s difficult to sit at home
When Love’s Spirits
Roam the cityscape
Of yesteryear’s romances

I sit, lingering in my car
At the gas station
Contemplating the scenes around me
Worried that if I go
I’ll miss a flash of insight
What was once mundane–
Random passings of cars
And people–
Now spring into poetic understanding
Any slight movement of the hand
Of the driver sitting in the car nearby
Could trigger an avalanche of prose
Some good, some mediocre
But all of it helpful
In the way of a
Balm for the romantic soul

Driving by the place
Where we played laser tag
I envision your ghostly apparition–
An image more real than unreal–
In between those lightning flashes of love
Comes darkness, yet
I know you are there

When I fell in love with you
I didn’t know that
I’d end up with
Nothing but an archetype
I could make a trek
In the Arctic
Looking for your lost meaning
Thinking of how you’d bring summer
To the cold
Even if we still had to wear
Thick jackets
To shield us from
The frosty slings
Of love’s secondary
Consequences

I might even venture
Into Dante’s inferno
If contingency
Brings us there
I might feel bruised and singed
Upon my return
But at least I’d know
That I turned over every stone
In pursuit of love’s mythology
And my memories of you

I considered trying a safari
In the savanna of elephantine promises
But it was no more
So instead crossed the ocean
To see five men on a corner
Who pointed me to the new subway entrance.
With the grand theater of the poetic soul behind me
I forged ahead down Main Street
Imagining you were by my side
And yes, you did laugh at one point
After I told you the story about
The man who asked
Where the airport was, and was told
“The same place where you left it last.”

Leaving the literary borderland behind
We continued south
In our quest to
Sail the Seven Parking Lots–
You, reeking fragarantly of Dumb Blonde
Me, having allowed such bed-head beguilement
Following under your charms–
A car drives by with a dog
Sticking his head out of the window
Having a good time, and I say:
“I will buy you a bouquet of colored pencils
If you simply utter my second middle name”
Whereupon you do, and I
Procure it for you
Then we stood,
Marveling at the prepackaged frame photos
Wondering if we’d agree to be so displayed
“Sometimes what seems too good to be true,
Really is true,” I said
Whereupon you tilted your head
To touch my side shoulder
For a moment in time...

We smiled at the frame photo of the
Little dog with reindeer antlers, then
Exiting, I playfully pointed out the
Imaginary green and blue squares
Showing on the great canvas before us
That stretched all the way to
That place that was your nirvana

We put one foot in front of the other
Then entered through the sliding glass doors
Whereupon you came upon your dream machine
With promises of boxes and lines and circles galore–
A cornucopia of geometric realms
At your fingertips

We passed the DVD display
Thinking about the new DVD player
You gave me for Christmas
And I pointed out the “E.T.” movie, saying
“How do you know I’m not actually E.T.?”
–“That would explain a lot!” you said, laughing.

We exit, and in the distance
See an Apollo Galaxy Tours bus drive by
With gawking tourists
Taking photos out the windows
Followed by a dark green delivery truck
That drops a heavy package on the road
Its contents were a mystery
Of small proportions

“Would you like to know where we’re heading?”
I ask
You nod and we turn right
And start walking
Through the line of sapling trees
Which begin to grow, very rapidly
At a pace of weeks per second
“It’s a long way from
Episode II to Episode VIII,”
I say
When we reach the other side
Marshaling all our strength
We hop into an Old Navy boat
And sail across the small sea
To the first Pier that we find
Looking at our reflections
In the store window
We see that we are not holding hands,
When we actually were
We wonder who or what
Was controlling the image

Walking forward to the great Beyond
That lay on the horizon
We stop and chat
To catch up on old times
And reminisce
In full understanding,
But with lonely hearts
“If you can stand the heat, let’s go to the Kitchen,”
I say
And offer you my hand
The cool night breeze
Was barely perceptible
But suddenly it felt like yesterday
As we sat and enjoyed each other’s company
Knowing that nothing else mattered as much
For the moment...





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