The Breadcrumbs widget will appear here on the published site.
EncounterI walk down Strawberry Street midnight after a party, two friends as bookends. We're headed to my house, stumbling across cracks, for another drink laughing loud until we see someone. She stares at street signs at a loss. She calls to us: Help. I'm lost-- I need a taxi. Where? What street? Two two seven six one, two two seven six one she slurs I lost my friends. She must have had too much to drink. I understand the confusion. My house beckons with soft bed to house my head and dream. The woman, lost, says the number again and drinks air in gulps. Just digits, still no street. I want to help her but my friends look uneasy. She's adamant: Can you call someone? Please, help me, two two seven six one. My friend calls a cab, asks her: Where's your house? while the phone's at his ear. It's my friend's place, Fredericksburg. My god, she has lost her mind, that's an hour away and the street is empty except for us, we all sound drunk, so the cab company hangs up. No drink has done this to her-- twotwosevensixone twotwosevensixone she says nothing else as if streets could change with her chants. The houses around us do not care. I am sorry for her loss whatever it was and ask my friend if we should we call 911? No! My friends just left. I just need to go. Five drinks in and clueless, I stare at her loss of balance, she sways in rhythm twotwosevensixone. I ought not bring this stranger home but we can't abandon her in the street. I glance away for a moment and our friend is gone she’s drunk on the number, running by houses down the block, soon lost in the darkening street.
#Unreal #Poetry #Poem #Party #Friends #Drunk #Strangers #Darkness #Lost
Visit our shop and subscribe. Sponsor us. Submit and become a contributor. Like us on Facebook and follow us on Twitter.
CommentsComments are closed.
|