These are the facts, nothing here but the facts. I was on the road to Damascus via a street in the West Village in New York City, when, in an instant, barometric pressure had dropped 100 MB. Darkness enveloped an eleven-o’clock-morning sun. It may have been a trick of the mind, or some kind of serious panic disorder. Although I could no longer see, I pictured myself a child on a visit to my great grandmother's house in La Salle, Illinois. In my head I felt as though a tornado was approaching...
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RED
ROOF INN, Love
a Few Miles North of Trenton, New Jersey Darling,
darling, girl, Much
between us remains unsaid.
Remember
that first overnight date at the Red Roof Inn?
I
am in search of this lost time.
An
impossibly large bed stretched out across the room. Opposite
from the bed frame’s feet, A
long chest of drawers rested flat against the wall. A
narrow aisle traveled from the suite’s front door Running
between the furniture to the rear of the room.
And
you, there, in your bikini briefs,
At
the end of the aisle, you were in an alcove,
An
enclosure directly opposite the bathroom. The
area occupied half the suite’s entire width.
Your
back to me,
You
stood up against a cantilever table. It
was a wall-to-wall vanity with a big mirror. The
mirror, you recall, was as long as the table’s surface,
And
it covered the entire back wall up to the ceiling.
Recessed
lamps provided light from overhead.
While standing before the table’s edge your face to the mirror You brushed your hair. With each stroke I witnessed the sinews beneath your skin, Your bones, how your shoulder blades flexed.
I
rose up from the bed, Took
a few steps, And
then, still from behind you, I
remained behind you, I
bent my torso forward at the waist. I
was squatting on my haunches, When
I extended my arms between your legs. Each
one of my hands was wrapped around one of your ankles. My
fingers held you just above your feet; My
thumbs pressed upon your Achilles tendons.
Head-down,
I pulled myself close to you. My
left shoulder went to the center,
It
rested within a spot between your buttocks and legs. The
left side of my chin found a niche, It
touched the back of your right knee.
That
was my posture when I had at first embraced you.
Once
I stood up,
Regained
some sense of my equanimity, I
told you that
I
had never personally encountered a woman, Who
looked so much the better naked than clothed.
“Wow!”
Burst out. And you said, “You
sure know how to compliment a girl.”
I
was dumbfounded. I thought for a moment; Then
I took a moral attitude, yet my tongue was tied. Though
I spoke these words, they were only to myself. ‘Woman!
Trust my veracity.
‘Do
not confuse my honest praise with flattery.’
Then,
pretending to further my defense, I
more or less recalled the poet’s immortal words, Those
lines about truth and beauty being one, And
is not response to beauty, truth?
I
ran the maxim in my mind. I remained speechless. ‘Beauty
is truth, truth beauty.’
I
dwelled in total awe of you.
And
when old age our generation shall waste,
And
time brings world to more and other woes, We
have had this moment and its sentiment remains – ‘Darling,
that is all,’ I quoted the lines to myself,
I
had not uttered a word aloud,
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TIME
FLIES; 21:59
Darling,
Tempus fugit, right? That’s
how the Latin goes. Virgil,
wasn’t it? But
who cares anyways, I
must say, hey Virgil, this is stupid stuff, Because
for me at home alone The
clock has stopped.
Then,
when I take another glance, I
realize from the timepiece's face That
I had been mistaken, my impression wrong. The
clock’s hands have apparently moved.
Yet
far from time fleeting, The
hours drag, even the second hand -- Its
motion becomes imperceptibly slow, When
you are gone and Day
and night must be faced alone.
And
you write to me and say that before long You
will return home. You declare that Less
than three weeks remain, Soon,
you add, your absence today turns to memory,
And
confidently profess, “time really does fly!”
But
for me, no matter how you try to comfort, Your
words are empty; they do nothing to hasten the hours! When
I hear the clock, note the spaces Between
its regular tick-to-tock, those intervals, They
appear as if they were eternity, and your absence --
Your face no longer upon your pillow, Your
body missing from your side of the bed -- You,
you seem now to have been gone forever.
2.
I
know. I know. You suppose that I exaggerate! Still
I am not acclimated to them, These
phenomena of your leaving, Your
terrible disappearances for the sake of business, These
separations, how may I ever become used to them!
You
were reared differently from me.
When
you were still a girl, Your
father was a frequent traveler; From
childhood on you grew accustomed To
experience longing, and you learned to practice A
ruse which had told your inner self that He
will be home before you know it.
I
can hear you and your mother rehearsing the phrase, When
dad was gone and you two sat at home alone, “Oh
the days go by so fast!”
The
electronic image of time before me (to
the bottom-right on the computer screen) Its
numbers read 21:59.
It
sits. It waits. Woman!
Can't you see what you have done to me? What
it means to be without you? Now
before me looms the terror, The
nightmare forecast, have you heard What
new science tells us About
the desolation to which all things row?
3.
The
universe endlessly expanding, With
its boundary beacons actually accelerating, Points
of light at outermost fabric of space/time, Increasing
speed, faster and faster, and distancing apart, Separately
hastening from one star-light point to another, All
of them at once unimaginably gaining velocity Now
farther and farther, becoming Less
and less visible one to the other, Each
spot, with its incredible luminosity, All
the great-big burns of atomic power Endlessly
hurling at quicking pace, hurrying and hurrying, Ever
picking up speed at the edge of empty space, Scurrying
to extend, stretching the cosmos, Until
ultimately everything that exists anywhere Has
no one object in sight of any other.
Might
I ever hope to expect the bright of your eyes To
bridge the black night, Where
time slips into nothingness, And
the law of gravity no longer applies, Every
principle of attraction confounded.
Me
having seen your face in every flower, That
once at summer's dusk we still felt warmth, And
at dawn when we awoke we felt it again. My
longing here, my each and every thought of you Mean
nothing when all spheres turn to final ice, And
all hope of perennial bloom becomes forlorn,
There
is no sunshine when you’re gone.
Time
at a halt, no more even the instant, and in the abyss No
star glimmers, no light shines out of the darkness,
I
wish you were in my arms tonight.
The
elctronic numbers on my computer clock read 21:59.
