September 14, 2008

you call these people your friends

late at night you wonder, watch tv, do dishes, and again ponder and measure accomplishments, not many of them you must admit, while you knew right from the start you had to compete alone; at the reunion party you find yourself lost, and again you wonder: who are these people, anyway? making an effort to stay sober, you find comfort before it's over in these two girls you met at a seedy pub once; they remember you, the girls, and they laugh about the sheer coincidence, they laugh, and yet you wonder: why did i come here in the first place; the beats pound your chest, another scoth with soda and now you digress, you find everyone so attractive and well dressed, your outfit so outdated it hurts, shame on you, shame and laughter, the silent laughter, the poor guy thought of these people that you call your friends but they are no more; the toilet is crowded but nobody's peeing actually, you wait, you walk, and try to dance, you are sweating and now you just may have caught a cold, sneezing, and you can smell the sickening odor of your sneeze, tiny drops, stale and frozen floating in the air, the beat, the smoke, a girl, and your arm accidentally scans her chest, up and down, and of course you get aroused, now the bottles are getting empty, now you wonder why did they invite you here, why did you accept the invitation in the first place; you wanted to be here and, for at least one night, belong, but belonging is never a one-night stand, and you ponder the ups and downs of everything, of that girl's chest, the ups and downs that make your crotch tickle. do you understand now that love is theft, that promises are burnt, and that people ultimately change; the games you played, the respect you deserve, the money you don't have, the façade you built for yourself, the eagerness, the need for recognition, the mishaps, the mistakes, all in all, time doing the eroding, you doing the enduring, aging in this cage called life, surrounded by strangers who look like mobsters; and you call these people your friends

mark drever (Philadelphia, PA, 1974)