Graduate School In Brooklyn

 

Maps sketched out on paper money
            all roads lead to the heart
            of the abandoned visions
            and flights of fantasy we all
fall victim to.

 

Compass rose ties puppet strings
            up like clotheslines.

Let us pretend we never dreamed
            as we espy the failures of our fathers.

Let us pretend we never lived.

 

Feeling optimistic, I drafted the next ten years

            on the back of a cocktail napkin,

talked all night

about living on Coney Island with Robby,

            building popsicle stick ecosystems in a shoebox.

 

A girl can dream.

            Crossed fingers clenched in a fist,

            well-suited to knock on wood.

Let me remember this in the morning.

 

It’s not that I couldn’t see it—

            Me with my piles of old magazines

Trying to cling to shreds of a childhood

I never had.

            Him in song,

soaking up all the light of the sun.

If there was anyone who ever deserved it…

 

He’s trying to memorize some Chekov monologue.

I’m trying to imagine the sunset over the ocean
            during one of those famous Northeastern winters.
            Or running into Ari,

catching up while he does a line off a seatback on the Q-train.

 

Matching each shoe to its pair…

            Will I even be able to recognize my friends
            by the time I reach the end of my list?

                                   Will I even care?

            Is there a reason behind this descent?           

                        Is it worth it at the top?

How’s the view?                    Is there room?

            How’s Jack? How’s the cat?

                       Will I ever be swept off my feet?

 

David once told me, if you love just one thing—

one pursuit,

that I would be better off than all the girls who
love just one man.

I whispered, “sermonize your brother instead,

he’s lost on the trains.”

 

Oven box theatres are

where I’ve been spending most of my days.

Pretending the clay is snow,

will I even ever make it to Chicago,

            or Colorado,

            or wherever?

                        Or will I just sweat through another winter?

 

The illusions of my heart,

matted in black,

            hung on a white wall.

 

All my love, all my life,

            I’ve listened and carefully plotted

dots on a map,

            sketched out on paper money.

 

Try and make change

            with that.

Reviews

[G. Cedillo]

Or will I just sweat through another winter?

the bitter truth resides in the lines, the impatience of it all (lets not define "all") and the too big restless wanting of chance and moment! great strides in truth, this!

I feel it to the very quick heartbeat pacing of each line and break, i feel it in the fluttering eyelids of searching lostness carried in each indexed thought ramshackle phrase cloudy intent - its worth everything to have written and for me to have read; thank you.

g =

[Dulce de Leche]

This is magnificent.

[Lori]

I love the way this goes in different directions of thought and manages to have this manic energy in places and then a more cautious pace in others. It just really captures personality. It seems that all that planning can get in the way of getting to all the places you want to go. You have a wonderful style and there's so much contained in this poem in terms of philosophical questions.

[Donald Meikle]

Spun down through the whole thing. awed. Then listened. This is the second I've read. G. Cedillo requested I read your oil on canvas. Try and make change with that! (I love a good ending)

[John Dorado]

I love you, and I just re-read this while you were reading it to me.
This is really great, you know.

Tell me more.

[Wendy G.]

Wow, I loved this piece! To read it, this is what it would sound like inside someone's head. I have no construct to the written part of this, but I think this could be spoken in a different way. Either way, it's great.

[John Dorado]

This is my absolute favorite of yours.
Mostly because I can identify and easily imagine what you are trying to address and question with the verses as well as it being well written.

"David once told me, if you love just one thing�
one pursuit,
that I would be better off than all the girls who
love just one man.
I whispered, �sermonize your brother instead,
he�s lost on the trains.�

wonderful.