J Street

Sunset at that place

horizon haze red and smoky

as if a great fire burns merrily

just out of sight.

I sit irreverently upon a

painted concrete table

choosing the graffiti I like the best

and crying self-conscious tears.

Couples and dogs walk the jetty

and I watch them for a reaction

sure that somehow the remnants

of cheap cigars and hesitant kisses

will affect them in some visible way

but they are amazingly oblivious.

My loss suddenly defined

and the time strangely reduced

to a scattering of events

that shared a common, but not exact, locality.

To the south, a heartbreak

To the north, a discovery

all encompassed by a well-beaten path

that I have traveled a thousand times.

But now I sit irreverently upon a

painted concrete table

that is still warm from a long-ago embrace

choosing the graffiti I like the best

and crying self-conscious tears.