Tuesday, July 1, 2014




She was dead

for almost a year

Before any of her

So-called friends

had the balls

or even inclination

to inform me

And I loved her

Once—on Clinton

Street briefly when

we lived in a hazy

shade of bliss.


Too much wine

I told myself was

all it took to slip

into her body.

But I went in

head first with

no delusions

Unprotected for

the very first time.


I was naked as

the day I was cut.

And I went in deep

and she responded



Her friends and

her family

weren’t exactly

like my friends and


and frankly Mister Banksy

stencils were blasé

blasé at the end of last

Century already…

Sorry I digressed.

Where was I…



So after meeting

her mother

I knew it was all over.

And after greeting her

father, I couldn’t fathom a future

with her or with-

out her



Then came the storm

and it whitewashed the City

Cars abandoned by the cube

at Astor place

buried in snow

busses barely ran

subways shut down


We walked up Avenue A

down the center of the street

when she turned to me

and said:

“No matter how much

money you make

from your songs

you’ll never earn

a fraction of what I am

going to inherit.”


But she didn’t factor in

the fact that

she’d never live

long enough to ever

see one single shiny dime.


She was never mine

To hold or keep

Just lay with



And she’d never

Stumble ‘cos

She already had

Taken all her falls


I was just a boy

Back then

No one took the time

To try to teach me how

to be a man

though a few tried

to help me be more like them.


Sad-eyed Lindsay

Of the Roosevelt

Re-married clan


I can’t say

With a straight face

That I miss ya’ cos you’re


Still with me

Smiling in the light

On another sunny day

Waiting for your man

To drop his glassine wares

Onto your filthy table top

with care


I can’t stop

But I just did





still student learning new everyday said...

I'm sure R**** loved you David.
I'm so sorry for your losses. R and Allen.
And childhood.

still student learning new everyday said...

At least you know what love is.
That's a good thing.
Really, it is.