Saturday, September 22, 2012
On the Edge of the Autumnal Equinox (a poem)
Last sunset of summer over the Hudson River from a Tribeca rooftop through my wineglass -- a birthday party for the Virgo girlfriend of a Virgo ex. It has been over three years since I have been here. My best friend brought a date who is so rude that he leaves before he drives her to push him off the roof for being hostile and uncouth. I keep thinking I will leave after one more glass of wine -- it does not happen. It is a magical glass that keeps refilling itself. But what the hell: the Moon is in Sagittarius, which encourages excess. The party's remnants move from the roof to my ex's apartment to smoke and drink. A pizza arrives and I take a slice to absorb all the wine. Three latecomers show up just as I am about to leave -- I wind up staying till the party breaks up because two are astrologers visiting from the West Coast and the other one knows her chart and makes me feel smart. Just a few blocks from home I hold the door of a bodega open to let in a large black cat with a white chin that I have seen slinking down those aisles of canned soups, sodas, and six packs. A guy passing by exclaims how nice that was of me to do, and asks me what I think the cat's name is -- it's gotta be something Arabic, right? Without missing a beat, I reply "Halal," and as the guy laughs, I still can't believe it's nearly fall.