social functions feel like funerals
for the kid i used to be:
graduation ceremonies for the younger ones
with that same old light in their eyes;
moving bodies postured specifically
to restrain a pride so brilliant
it might have blinded anyone other.
collecting gifts for a job well done,
sit down, wait for the next one.
i saw smiles struggling for modesty
and failing -- but not universally:
failing through the eyes of the watchful;
that guy who has been there; done that;
smiled into the bright spotlights while recieving the same
listened with my happy ears
to words of parting and best luck.
it was a sad nostalgia, those kids were so happy
they cried altogether, into their flowers
and into their haircuts and young bodies heaving
into one another, smiling and thinking,
this will be a good memory.
a moment worth revisiting;
not to be confused with those memories
to bring guilt and disappointment
to the guy who does nothing, is nothing.
loves no one and disappoints.
gives his money for
monthly payments: a wasted
college education, two years of his life
spent plastered in the hallway.
has fucked away his innocence,
has made his father weep shamefully for money,
for his little boy drugged up and fucked
i thought to kill myself tonight,
frowning for my carcass.