APRIL WEEKEND                           All the things I know are here                           laid out before me like a little army                           but what it was like for you                           no,not that.                           And in that silence I'm an oaf                           drunk at a party,uninvited,                           trying to make amends                           thru the numb haze unfeeling                           failing,and trying,nothing left to do but go                           but how can I leave?                           What can I tell you?                           Taking apart the mystery til there's only pieces                           things everyone already sees clearly enough                           and none of it helps.                           This ache has been with me for years now                           trivial in the face of things,                           how it feels when something that might have been                           is gone.                           The gift you had,your freedom,your love,                           to bestow,to grant,to give when it was yours to give                           it still is but you can't hold it now I think.                           That's what I mean. That ache. There is no redeeming,                           no undoing,it's just gone.                           I keep seeing the beach at twilight                           like a book about the end of the world                           still air,even the waves are silent.                                                                              Raging intense at first but then revenge was                                                    just another poison in the blood.                           You needed  more than that one man. Not even his life                           would be enough.                           You want to destroy the thing that put him there.                           What is that,where is it now?                           Is there a choice? Always.                           You can rebuild something,yes                           but that innocence is gone.                           So close to the pleasure and the dark truth,                           lots of women like their men fierce and uncompromising                           demanding insistent forceful                           potent. It's so close. The male cops are more inclined                           to blame the victim if she's drunk,more inclined                           than the female cops. And if she had a sexy dress on,tight pants,                           asking for it. So close. And really it's not my place                           to say,to speak,to deny,defend,or make this more                           than it is. I know how it felt for me. I can give you that.                           I know how it feels now,something is gone and it will                           never be here again,                           I can give you that.                           The rest is the comfort of religion and routine                           friends and the blind spots                           at the edge of what you know.                           None of my business really                           but I wanted to say something.
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