June 17, 2011

anesthesia







We met the usual way strangers meet
By nefarious chance
Awkward coincidence
In perfect timing
For disaster

Add some casual chatter
Sprinkled by impromptu social-network cross-research
An unnecessary fourth round of spirits
Early summer weather
And there you had us – helpless

Double entrées
Triple distillation
The Kronos Quartet
A five-pointed star tattoo – WTF???
Six bucks in my pocket at the end of the night

And there we go, all over again:
This season's first shooting star
Fleeting, elusive, flamboyant
Lots of things in my life at the moment
Feel very temporary

So it must be two or three in the morning now
It must be time for me to go
That said in poor taste, in sour regret
While silently walking away at frantic speed – without reasons
Just like trying to write a poem under anesthesia


nik anastasiadis (Sacramento, CA, 1984)