Thursday, October 11, 2012

Last Goodbye

I was in a dream
walking down a street
toward a distant but familiar beach
big rich houses to the left
the park across four lanes
and I stopped
thinking, This is
Vince's neighborhood.
What am I doing here?
but I couldn't finish
I turned quickly
felt someone behind me
he said, That's it,
Kid. before I could speak
It's over, I'm done, time to go.
But Vince... I tried, crying
You little asshole
don't be so dramatic,
he said without anger,
puffing his cigarette, a Parliament
wearing his same old outfit
almost a uniform
the way I remember it
laundry-damaged thrift store polo
tired khakis with faded stains
unnaturally bright brown hair
slicked back
his mustache
and eyebrows brighter still
It's over, Son, I gotta
go now, he repeated
It's over? I echoed
couldn't help myself
choking on tears
It's over, I gotta go.
I gotta go, I'm done.
he said, impatient
part of me going with him
then he was gone

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