You Left Forever Sitting on my Doorstep

by Darryl Price



and so I'm staying here where I am a little while (longer). Who  knows

where the time sleeps? I don't think I'll ever catch

up with your heart again. That's the same lame novel approach I'm always stepping  

into to read the next road sign from. It's a good enough story I suppose, but the odd

ending always remains the same. a horrified, last sad awakening of

the younger poet self to the old man weeping in his fretful sleep. Now you've gotten to the impossible stacks of new blue smoke, the suicidal


enshrouded manuscripts being thrown on top of a bright hot blaze that's

already been written (and sounding slightly blotchy to me). I'd like

to burrow my way out of the whole mess and

be done with it, but that would take another major

letting go. That's what I'm having my own girl trouble with. I

still seem to care. I don't want to abandon you to the always hungry


prescription wolves and the violent Parchesi termites of dead fashion just because they've

come to the door with all their right papers in hand and official

stuff softly laid upon their splotchy outstretched gloves. I owe you. You gave me so much

more of my own life than I would otherwise have

been aware of. It might sound silly to you now but I appreciate

your soulful notes full of unheard of noises. It made the insufferable differences into something interesting


to watch as they happened to us. Gave a tragic notion, but motion nonetheless. It

unfroze the harm done all around us by crooks and soul thieves. Look, they were

very much never going to understand this dreamlike vision of

yours, or mine. By then they were already sure of

their own rightful places as being inexplicably physical. But we were new

to the whole youthful world gang thing. We had possibilities galore at our disposal. We wanted


peace to be the right answer every single time, not just in the abstract sense. We weren't

the pretend kind of lovers. Things blossomed right into our faces like diving into ice cold water.

We were just that close to the ground running. So when

you left so suddenly I saw a horizon I didn't recognize

as being plausible anymore, and that really scared me into many tiny torn pieces of belief like too many tears to comprehend. I

once saw a great tenderness allowed to express itself frequently in


your intent upon gaze and upon your uniquely shaped brow, my friend. I saw the meaning

of  certain kind words give birth to an eternity of awesome meaning. I was

not afraid to laugh like some people are now. And that's

the very bearded point of view I possess I guess of this outstretch of letters

of mine. It's not over on my part. We were

new to the whole eve of disaster thing happening on over at


the nightly news station. I saw a lonely child fall into

an ugly raging river. You helped wipe the insane wet from our worried

faces at the time. This can't be misunderstood, forgotten or denied,  by me

now or ever. You can continue on your journey as

you will. As for me, I'll shine off you ‘til

it's my own turn to step within the curious limitless bounds and sink away into a yesteryear all gone off like the snuff of a candle's light to heaven's smoky ceiling, all by myself, like always.





notesection breakthe ones that eat away yesterday