264: In a high school hallway Michael Brown sidles up to me and whispers in my ear, “Read On the Road it’s the bible.” I don’t know what he’s talking about until I do, and then I do.
265: Older than yesterday younger than tomorrow will be the way it will be until we will no more.
266: In Little League, I hit a bloop single over second base and go to third on a passed ball. The coach whispers in my ear: “The catcher lobs the ball back to the pitcher. As soon as it leaves his hand, you fly home.” I barrel down slide head down, and when I look up, the pitcher is still holding the ball. Later in the game, I wind up on third again, and the manager whispers, “Did you like doing that? Do you want to do it again?” The catcher awaits me with the ball and a grin, and applies a tag so hard the imprint of the seams can still be detected on an MRI of my past.
267: I’ve lost all feeling in my phantom heart.
268: Uncle Fester: meet Mr. Bluster.
269: In the 60s, we’d read that a new Dylan or Beatles or Butterfield album is about to be released and look for it almost daily at Sam Goody’s in the Green Acres mall, first checking the new release display, then scouring the alphabetical bins, one day hitting paydirt, until a salesman tells us that new releases only come in on Tuesdays, robbing us of daily hope in return for one day of either elation or week-long disappointment.
270: Once upon a 2 a.m. in the late 50s, the nice man on the suburban block wakes the neighbors repeatedly screaming: “Let me in! Unlock this door! Let me in!” I am still trying to write the novel.
271: I once wiped away the most beautiful tear in the history of sadness.
272: Soothe the savage beast’s breast.
273: Go to hell. Go to heaven. I don’t care, just get out of here.
My favorite of these is #270. Gotta take it further! -- DL
Posted by: The Best American Poetry | February 01, 2019 at 05:13 PM