Past Perfect

-

My life is a 

contract

An allegiance to the present

Which everyone belongs to

Like a church

Or a Planet Fitness membership.

Every day

I clock in

By opening my eyes

And then I 

go through the 

motions of the morning

as if I am here

as attentive as a caretaker

when most of the time

I’m 

Secretly

A hobo 

Riding the rails

Weaving through

The clouds

That I would love to slip into

Like a puffer jacket

If it would

Just open its arms.

I would linger longer

in the now

If I could

But lately it has been too punishing

And moving way too fast

As if the guy in charge of 

The carousel

Is hammered

And off somewhere

Having himself

A smoke

While we all spin out of control

Flying in all directions

off horses

And elephants.


So I choose to leave

As often as possible.

By listening to 

music

from a time when

Presidents were glamorous

And feet were bare

And bottoms were belled

And hair had no limit

Flowers were currency

Aging was unimaginable

And forever

Was the only imaginable goal.


And then I go back even further

To bobby sox crooners 

and Broadway albums

Which always made me feel

Like I was an integral part of the cast.

And then I watch old movies

Where bone thin men in top hat and tails

Twirl women 

Who love to be twirled

Despite their

Initial misgivings

And common sense


And then I

daydream

About my

girlfriends

Dressed from head to toe

In naked skin

Who spooned with me 

as if their parents,

Whose bed we were in,

Would never return from 

Their night out.


And then I will time commute home

On the Amtrak of thought

With all the other men ghosts

With their quiet cuffs and tired fedoras

And boozy drinks

And smoke trails

That fly in our wake like cobwebs

And settle into the night

Whose only promise

Is that in just a few hours

I will get to dream

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