Nuclear Polio Vaccination

Above the highest of the high rises
overlooking the harbor
they twirled
they danced
and he held her as close
as he could–without committing any major violations.

He reveled in his dapper threads
their formal wear adding to the decadent festivities.
Feeling light and charming,
smiling
making merry,
they spun
and spun again
boogied
and let the celebration
carry itself to this point.

Need not go anywhere
beyond this innocent crush
no questions needed to be asked
no lies needed to be told
on this evening.

He had dreamt this moment
years before and wouldn’t
remember that until the next day on the plane
half groggy–still drunk
reeking of booze and smokes,
the dream of the elevation, candles, and glass windows
drinking scotch with the old man
overlooking the city
in similar attire
in a similar state of mind.

Dreamily dancing,
nowhere near that altered reality
a dream he had
years (months?) before
but wouldn’t remember til
he was tired enough to recall
that they were in a dream
and didn’t know it
for the dream
had merged with reality
and sometimes
reality could get weirder
than the unpredictable
subconscious.

Shooting for the stars
sometimes
left one spitting out stardust
and choking on moonbeams.

So he looked
he touched
but did nothing to
later feel ashamed of,
simply let himself
evaporate into the free and jovial light

Spinning
twirling
and turning
high above the Manhattan skyline
overlooking the harbor
with the band in their ears.
He moved in closer
and let her cheek feel his
to let her know that he was there.

~Edward Austin Robertson

Tags: Edward Austin Robertson

Its easy to forget
that it ALWAYS
starts out good
feeling fresh
lots of laughter to go around for the both of you.

Every new moment
a magical spark
every touch
new area of the body explored
a minor victory,
merely a precursor
in hope that
you don’t end up hating each other
as a result,
fighting back the urge
to choke the other person (if there were no legal consequences)
to throw a brick through their car windshield
an ending
so inconvenient and unpleasant;
as if there was never a reason to like that person
you once shared a bed with
bared your souls
cut your farts
heard their snores
shared your secrets
let loose desires
and made silent wishes.

it never ends the way its supposed to
or does it?

(Isn’t there a point where one doesn’t need anymore eggs?)

One never goes into a relationship thinking
it will be a waste of time and energy
that a lesson is unnecessary to take
into the next trip with someone
who is (not altogether) different,
that they will encounter a dread of
running into that no so special anymore
someone.

A fruitless endeavor indeed
if friendship or friendliness
or courtesy is no longer
in the picture.
What is to be gained?

One only can hope that
the next time there will be less mistakes
that one will feel more secure,
express thoughts more freely
less harshly
leave with less regrets than the previous trip
see more things to care about
less things to critique
and say nothing to that can’t be taken back.

To realize that you must learn to laugh at your insecurities
and learn to recognize the taste of swallowing jealousy
and laughing at it as well
to not resent that person
because that person is only
a reflection of you
a mirror image of your subconscious

no shrugging of the shoulders
to struggle to remember
(and forget) why it didn’t work out
and move on with newer (less painful) memories

parties agree to disagree
imbalance can lead to
confusion and conflict
wounds tender and raw
loathing and the loss of respect.

(Its no fun no matter which side of the fence you land)

Avoid the urge to dress it up
for fear of seeming too carnal
Avoid the primal urge
to deflect
to lay blame
to denounce
and just accept
that
once upon a time
that moment was shared

before the ugliness
before the deal breakers and the ugly edicts
when the differences were negligible,

before falling into the camps of the forgotten
or the ones who got away
or the ones who never had a chance.

~Edward Austin Robertson

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He wasn’t sure how long he had been staring at the ceiling
before he was taken on his bizarre journey.
The ultimate freakout
from an uncertain reality.

The music turned to wallpaper
epiphanies hidden beneath the meanings of song lyrics
bending with guitar solos
deciphering the purpose
of cleaning carpets
working the valet parking lots
at the race track,
and idiotic decisions
resulting in solitude.

Mr. Miniver Cheevy.
So full of shit
so transparent to himself
the truth unavoidable
with no one around to bullshit.
Not he?
Then who?
was he to be
when he returned,
if he returned
from outer space?

Inner space
in a space
that no one could reach him

his isolation
a drug
he needed but did not want.

Perhaps there was no going back,
and why should he?

Who was to benefit from his return
what had he to offer
the world
to himself?

Ready to go
but not ready to be taken
getting too heavy.

Feeling too light,
too good to let go
for if he let go,
no telling where he’d be taken.

Impossible to feel this good and
remain alive.

Floating above it all
as static electricity
seeing from beyond but
unable to express any of it
verbally.

The purples
the lavenders
the light blues
hues
condensed within
a fog,

no hands
no face
no space between
like gases without
solids to fill.

These gentle voices
booming
deep and soothing
from antennae
of a different
frequency

Do
Make
Say
Think

but most of all

DO.

The good times weren’t over
only different.
He didn’t have to be life’s punching bag
if he didn’t want to be.

Stick to his guns
and the path would still be the path
if he chose to leave the path
for out was still in
and the spiral had always been in control.

He wanted to return
to feel naked skin
and freezing rain.

He wanted to return
to clear his family name.

He wanted to return
but he didn’t know how
else to gain control
besides
relinquishing the grips
on the ever maddening madness
he was clinging to.

~Edward Austin Robertson

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