Tribute to the Dedication of the Memory of the Poem that I Wanted to Write But Didn’t

It started out okay.

There were words about the

dryness of my hands and lips.

There were words about the

temperature of my heart as it

beat longingly in my chest.

There were words about the

scruffiness of the stubble on my

chin and grinding and gnashing of

my teeth as I slept while my

dreams worried about being a

lonely guy forever.

There was flowery language

about the soft shape of a

woman’s face and the curves of

her body. There was even a

pregnant

pause

to solidify my deep and

meaningful desire to stop

this solo and single game.

I wrote about booze and

how the drink always keeps

me up too late, sitting on my

couch wondering where I went

wrong and why I went wrong and

how come I do the things I do

when there’s so much else I could

do.

Which led me to think of a poem of

such power, such magnitude, such

importance to the advancement

of the human species, to the understanding

of the human heart and mind. It was

beautiful and stirring and it would have

made the Devil cry tears of gold and rattled

the pillars of heaven.

It would define the laughter of

children and redefine what it

meant to deeply and honestly

love someone.

Then I fell asleep.

And it was gone.