On Bleeker St

A day just like any other day--
Walking from street to street;
Following the footprints of yesterday's shadow,
A trench embedded in the sidewalk of repetition.
I am a true child of my generation,
Taught to stay in line, take orders, love democracy,
And never, ever question the norm--
Unless of course I finally believe that I can change the world
With a single phrase.

A city just like any other metropolis--
Born out of greed, want, and need,
Destined to collapse under its own sins.
I am a prisoner in a life I did not choose,
Wanting to abandon forced responsibilities
And spend the day dreaming about what could be.

A man just like any other white-collar-eat-my-shit man--
Brushing my wilted shoulder with his Brooks Brothers' shirt,
Hollering into the cell phone attached to so many hands,
Sweat running down his receding hairline--racing for the starched collar.
Entranced by the fervor of his movements,
I lean against the wall watching one of them squirm for once,
Enjoying the way that the proverbial shoe has landed on the other foot with a thud.
My smile freezes as his body tenses and falls slackly to the ground.

A sound unlike any other sound--
Slicing the air and brutalizing the ear drums,
The man wheezes and strains--an instrument out of tune.
As his closest observer, I crouch at the man's shuttering form,
I notice the unfortunate lack of motion on the left side of his body
And clasp his right hand, waiting for the end.

Our souls kiss the gentle touch of unity--
Blurring the differences I had focused on a blink ago,
Opening a chasm in space and time;
I am him and he is me.
Flung into diapers, cross-trainers, cleats, acne,
Marriage, betrayal, divorce, the boardroom, loss,
Triumph, fear, acceptance, and finality.

Desperation's tingling fingers open my own past--
Mornings spent smoking in bed where clocks don't exist,
Waterfalls consisting only of tears and missing dreams.
I open my eyes to a man who is simply human
And my harsh judgment reverberates.

An apology unlike any other--
It passes from my heart to his,
A phrase I hope mends both our wounds,
Changing the world which we thought we knew.
I am a whisper away from his thoughts,
Waiting for his response.
And after all of that, the loudest sigh I've ever heard seeps out.
Our souls that had spoke to each other for a short time,
Became two once more.