Brass Ring

Whatever it was, however it happened,

every leap turned out a big waste of time deal,

in those days when love did not find me, nor I it.

I stumbled around Madison for nearly four years,

constantly tumbling into too stupid mode to put up brilliant efforts,

attracted to women not attracted to me –

and vice versa, truthfully.

A long bad dance that, and I, never much of a dancer to begin with.

It went on, too, like one of those marathon competitions

where the contestant couples hang on to each other,

propping each other up for days and days,

like that story, They Shoot Horses, Don’t They?

The only problem?  I lacked partners.

Like Dancing with the Stars partners.

Tight. In synch.

I was propping myself up, barely,

and there was no one to shoot me.

Relationships that meant something to me, a bust,

gone in that blink, a snowflake fluttering to the ground,

you catch it, it melts instantly, even with the softest handling.

It seemed sometimes as if I spoke another language,

incomprehensible, words far more foreign than aloha.

It was like sitting on a merry-go-round slowing down so slowly,


Wanting and wanting to get off.

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