The Plane That Just Crashed..... Poem by RIC BASTASA

somewhere in new york
you read me
and in silence you wonder
if there is love
in the words that i
use

love in my stories
or at least affections for
the other in my
poems

there is none there
actually
you feel it you know
it and even if you
chop the words like
nuts
there is no flesh
in it
no spirit

the party has no
drinks to make us drunk
the reunion has
no stories of youth
to tell

somewhere in new york
your loneliness is kept
like a locket
and i too wonder what is
happening
not only to you but to me
as well
as the whole world where
loneliness creeps
like a sickness
where depression assumes
a lot of common names
where suicides are
said in whispers during
intimate dinners
during those trysts
and secret rituals

here i will try
to write a new one to please you
perhaps the triumph of love
the birth of another child
or the finishing of a new house
or the graduation of
a daughter from law school

ah, sand castles again
same stories that sell in the market
of commercialized literature
and so
here we are again
so non-confrontational about the
realities of our mutual existencies
or exigencies

love fails but we keep it still
affections fade but we put our own colors
dreams did not come true
families break up
lovers betray
and all the rest of those wars
that we lose

ah never mind
this i say, this is the joy of the many
i am not alone in my own loneliness
as you are not alone
in that journey towards death

the pre-departure area is full and crowded
you complain
about the late plane that just crashed.