the imaginary triangle

i never had a prom date...

so many tears

wiped away

by a single angel

falling into outstretched arms

that until then

were blinded

by a lie that could never be,

but you loved the lie

more than the truth

starring at you in a snowy parking lot.

there must be a million fine women in the world,

but all of them bring you lasagna at work...

alas, the simple consolation

of knowing and being

the same person were not yet merged

into one unified being,

so the great contradiction

agreed with the lie

that was caught off guard

by an unexpected preemptive strike.

maybe we wouldn't have been jack and diane,

but our possibility was greater;

that's why i roam message boards

at two in the morning,

hoping to accidentally

run into you at an unexpected place

i know all too well you'll be.

 

a lonely class

in the corner of the building

set during the final period.

two paths that should have never crossed

jammed into each other

in midflight

and plummeted to the ground

in a clumsy and exhilirating passion.

a name that's all but forgotten

because of an eraser and a fresh start,

but as long as a crumpled green notebook

and crusty brown paint

keep a few loose threads to the past preserved

i can remember the winter

that wasn't quite so cold,

and the greenest spring

a new man could ever hope to find.

i am forever changed because of who you are

and what you've meant to me...

i'd never need a picture of birds

bought at a diner to remind me

a couple of beers and cigarettes

are the only memories we'll share;

i guess that'll have to do,

but we could have been great.

 

i think they both wore blue

one with her hair up

and the other had it down.

i danced with one,

but i never learned a thing

and left before the dj

pulled the record from the table.

one wanted me to ask,

but i let her walk away,

i let them both walk out those doors

alone or with another

or some kind of mix of both.

would they know

would they care

did they ever say a word

to each other

as simple as asking directions

or to pass the salt?

if some stranger could show them

how i sit in the blackness

conjuring up old memories

that may never have been good enough

to make an imprint

in the minds of better men 

would it stir an ounce within them,

or would they wave their hands

and dismiss it all

to being young and immature

while i grow older

yet still firmly rooted

in the dust of so long ago.

Reviews

[Gheeneil]

Perhaps, the memories just kept flowing as your mind traveled back to the past. Thus, that explains the lengthy piece. Reminiscing could either be wonderful and displeasing, depending on how things were. But, the good thing about writing them down is that one could slowly get rid of a bad experience, if it was that.

My first thought is that it's basically a flow of your thoughts.
My second thought is that you must have a lot on your mind.
And my third thought is that...well, I never had a Prom date either. :(