Fairy Tale Factory
Missed Connections in Brooklyn
we met in a factory full of fairy god mothers and tooth fairies
young and broke but full of
dreams
long before you developed a taste for fine scotch
you and i would watch color tv and
get lost in
space
kicking forward twenty five years latter on the
lower east side at an aa meeting
we met
again
i didn’t tell you that i didn’t believe in this
rhythmic kick it
crap
and the only reason i was here was to meet
women who
drink
over coffee you were somehow able to encapsulate
the last twenty five years of your life
in one perfect
paragraph
but no words were needed to feel how broken
we’d both
become
and then you smiled and i knew
that you
remembered
when we were
both brand
new
Her Two Cents
Slow yet fast is how our years progress. Incremental change occurs over days, weeks, and months shocking us (pleasantly, horrifically, with acceptance or resignation) when we peer through a window connecting the present to the past. Sometimes, I look back and think, “since then, more time has passed by than all the time that came before.”
