On the Strangest & Most Unexpected Nights… by Hosho McCreesh

Leaves dried up
and falling and
I’m caught hanging
in a lonesome night,
one spent wandering
past all the faces
I once knew,
and I tell myself that
I never knew them,
and they never knew me,
that we were just in
the same places
at the same time,
and that the things
we imagined between us
were not there–

the love
the struggle
the truths untold,
all imagined.
Yes, I tell myself that
if I have anything to
apologize for it’s that
I am too quick to forget,
and maybe too foolish to value
all the things and
all the people
who once
meant something
to me.
I tell myself it’s just
a symptom of getting older,
the way our worlds shrink,
the way we care for less,
the way we have time for nothing,
and that the hard truth is
it doesn’t matter anyway,
that people come
and they go,
and that we’re
meant to forget
each other.
But it’s lonesome tonight,
and sad, and I know
it’s because I’m lying,
I’m fooling myself,
and that they all do
mean something.
That there was
love there somewhere,
even if it was murky,
and if I was across a table
from them all tonight,
I’d want them all to know
that they’ll always have
a corner in me, that
on the strangest &
most unexpected nights,
I’ll once again find myself
with them, drink in hand,
on a rooftop overlooking
downtown Albuquerque;
or watching snowfall
on Tokyo Bay; we’ll be
warming next to a fireplace
in a chalet in the Alps, or
wandering the streets of
Arpajon, Vancouver, or Nogales;
we’ll be driving the backroads
to Santa Fe, or drinking at the
Flor-Bama in Pensacola, and
knocking back a few frescas
on the porch at Amherst or Vassar;
Jean-Pierre’s in Durango, or Van’s Pig Stand;
the Pair-A-Dice Bar in Shoshone, WY;
a castle in Galway, and
whistling ‘Sittin’ on the
Dock of the Bay’ drunk
in a half-empty bar off
Bourbon Street;
Chinatown or a
nice Italian join in
North Beach; a long, poetic
letter in the mailbox,
or a coconut margarita
on the 4th of July;
another wee pint in our
front-row seats at the Abbey Theater
watching Juno and the Paycock;
or decent seats at BB King or
Buddy Guy or Bob Dylan or
Ralph Stanley; or a long. lazy
afternoon in our hotel in Ruidoso;
playing poker below deck
out in the middle of
Lac Leman, and walking to
four gas stations in Wendover
and still not finding a beer
we could stand to drink.
Yes, we’ll tilt back our drunks
and laugh again about
the silly, stupid world,
curse it, and all the things that
make us forget ourselves,
and all the things that
make us forget each other,
and we’ll stare into the empty night,
into the vast & silent sky
and we’ll remember,
we’ll forgive,
we’ll love again
and be unafraid,
and we’ll know each other’s
deepest hearts, and
we’ll remember
we’ll remember,
and try hard to
to never
again
forget.

(click on the lonesome street to listen)

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3 Responses to “On the Strangest & Most Unexpected Nights… by Hosho McCreesh”

  1. i was mesmerized by this poetic stream. took me to many places i’ve never been (and probably will only get to via poetry). great work, thanks! best, winnie

    p.s. i think there is a “typo” on the word “join”; shouldn’t it be “joint” as in “nice Italian joint in North Beach” ?
    p.p.s. could not see/hear the video (maybe because i am not a “tweeter’).

  2. Linda Lerner Says:

    A rather haunting poem, and reminds me of what something a man I loved said– how all we can ever have, anyone can, is moments.

  3. Nancy Cooper Says:

    simply beautiful

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