Red Shift

Stability By Ted Berrigan

Here I am at State Street looking in the window frame The air rough, ice lines the bumpy gravel On the way to destination streetscape I drink some private stock which burns And walk hesitant but blend In. The streets look for my purpose, or me. Eyesdodging, smells of filth linger, its almost 9:47 pm. Worry on me. I push Though it. Them, as Black coffee is being sipped on the Harbor now Three years almost ago, and the man lonely Smiles at his many mistakes, & telling Who would have thought that I’d be here. Nothing Went right. Secrets and lies, everything Will come to the surface sometime Up in the starless sky. Now More than ever before?Not that girl in a green coat. Eyes penetrating through the crowd, on Chauncy St.& waiting in the cold. Not that girl with the curly brown hair. Fifteen who was Going to have to go, careening into adulthood so,To yearn. & to never escape reality but to keep imagine So to go. Not that accountant who from very first meeting I would never & never forgetInto the dark we fell. You & so demandedTo be there & who will never leave me. Not for culture, nor tradition Nor even for convenience which is Only our human lot & means conformity. No, not this time There’s a song, “Wicked Game”, but no, I wont do thatI am to young. When will I die? I will never die. I will live To be 142. & I will never go away & you will never escape from me Who am always & only a dream. Despite this life. Spirit Who lives only to please.I’m only memories, & I am not free, & I didn’t knowIt was so fast I came into your life to show you true life True feelingsYou didn’t except it Weary & tired. Unexpected fate, nevertheless I slowly turn the corner The world’s biggest mystery