New Year's Eve, 2005

New Year’s Eve, 2005

The cold Chicago buildings

On New Year’s Eve.

Climbing the cold metal rungs of the ladder, 

on the roof of the complex.

Lake Michigan just in the distance.

Sears Tower Sparkling —

the alcohol buzz now coming in strong. 

All we could do was see. 

I couldn’t talk. 

I just sounded like a fool.

I couldn’t hear. 

The things they said were too stupid. 

But we all knew:

Goddamn, my friends, this is beautiful.

I’d proceed to smoke with my best pal’s cousin on the fire escape

and try to explain the shapes of feelings. 

He just laughed at me,

but always had a warm heart, so the laughs made me laugh too.

And then, at the bar that night:

I was too stoned to do anything else. 

so I sat at the food tray, 

and munched on cheeses and sliced meats endlessly.

That same cousin laughing his ass off when he saw.

The munchies! 

There was an angel there. Six feet tall.

She put her arms on my shoulders, and I slurred:

YOU’RE REALLY TALL.

She smiled, and with an angelic smirk, looking me right in the eyes:

YOU’RE REALLY SHORT.

God, I loved that.