What Happens When I Go... Poem by RIC BASTASA

so many times will i watch this
there is no way that i can stop watching this
show of a
beautiful body

when i was about to go, i feel the loss
and the grief is like rain at night
there is no ceasing
of the sounding and pounding of the
pain

i have hesitations of course
i am not the familiar kind that goes into
the house of
the mundane

must i bury myself in the terse tension
under my bed?

i cannot betray what myself has been praying
for
to be free for a while and make the most
of what time is left

and so i go
into the familiar places of the heart
meeting everyone
nurturing the wounds and trying to
erase the scars

when i arrive there i feel the shrinking of
my body
my hands are touching my feet
the door when it closes suddenly becomes
a very tall man

i am looking up
to that artificial light
i am lost again
and defeated