Showing posts from September, 2009

To A Throne in Monterey, I say Goodbye

I stood on the runway we used to watch from the rooftop in
Lawn chairs. Where we ruled matchbox planes that grew
bigger with the flick of a finger. They used to rumble above us as we
laughed at the sulking shadows in windows, ignoring the cipher of flashing
red and blue farewell lights. Standing there on that concrete slab,
blinking at the intermittent singles, I tried to see that shingled throne,
but could only see the heroin sunsets of last week, the choppy
bay that teased us with enthralling gazes of Santa Cruz, tried to hear
the entrenching roots of steadfast friends, but
could only hear eerie fog horns that stretched across the grass,
the sassy seals, and dried out conversations
pressed against the creases of our minds. I tried to reach out and
halve myself between the tugging sides of both the coasts
and failed, eyes staling out in creeping Monterey fog. There was no Venus light,
no blinding moon or crashing waves. There was only Mercury,
poised and ready to go away. Businessmen