Posted by: facetothewind | April 26, 2006

Waiting for the Elves

Waiting for the Elves
4/26/06 Tucson
by David Gilmore

It happened again last night
Walking just after sunset under the bridge
Where the bats fly out in formation
Into the dark blue sky

He leans into me and tells me something special
I listen quietly and anxioiusly
He stumbles for the words
“I really enjoyed our last date and the sex was good”
Now I know what he’s about to say.
And it’s going to start with a “But,”
“But, I don’t feel the need to continue that…”

Waves rush in
And suddenly I’m washed out to sea
Alone in the middle of a dark ocean
I’m a big boy
I try not to cry
I try not to sink

He says, “You know you’re a wonderful guy
And I’m very blessed to have met you…
And you know, there’s someone for everyone.”
I don’t think there is, I tell him.

I try to minimize the damage
I make myself dinner
Not very hungry
Kale and tomatoes only tonight
Two glasses of wine
No dessert

In my little brick house
Across the rear courtyard, I get into bed
I pull the flannel sheets over my naked body
I notice how soft the down feels
And how beautiful this room that I built is
I wonder if I like things more than people.

The crepe over the door blows back and forth
as if the room was breathing
Coyotes cry in the wash outside

The elves in my head come to me in my confusion
They’re working furiously to find an answer, to patch things up for me
They whisper to me, “You must write about this.”
I agree. If I can’t experience love,
I can at least write about its bleak absence.
I lie there in the dark waiting for the first line to come.

Helicopters circle overhead searching for a fugitive
I stand at the window facing the wash, my nose to the screen
As searchlights scan the desert scrub brush
I peer out in the darkness hoping to see the face
Of someone more desperate than I

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