The Planet That Wears Its Heart on Its Face

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.

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