the vietnamese joint
at the end of my block.
having ordered, i open
my book to a page with
the words lemongrass
and coconut. an ashbery
coincidence, perhaps. but
such serendipity is a part
of life. i am stuck, though,
on a fresh conversation, can’t
concentrate. about family,
being closeted, rumors,
bullies, my love faced
with much of the middle-
ground horrid we encounter.
and he bows, his tendency
to not bring these things up,
despite me, despite plans,
despite closeness to his
family. and, as always, i can’t
help. his way is not mine but
living with these has seemed
to erase his hopes and his own
values and person, at least mom
entarily. now he sleeps to escape.
we all choose escape from what
we choose not to confront when
the real escape seems as not-so-
obvious as it might, especially
for those of us who have been
through such stuff. i get it, though.
sometimes we can’t budge. if we
could, i would certainly be there in
a heartbeat. to take him away from
that which cannot be escaped. to show
the anxious giddiness of taking risks.
i think of what i refused to confront
over the years. a lifetime of such. i
tell him he is not the perp, that he is,
in fact, the victim. that rumors mean
he is an interesting subject to those
who participate in such drama, but he
just sees the negative. i can’t help but
understand. sweet dreams, my love.
my wish for you tonight is that you do
not feel the need to escape much longer.
there is such freedom in the letting go
of such unnecessary noises. of listening
