THE GREATEST TRAGEDY

Day after day
he sits in his chair
dreaming of
golden days of youth
Arcade games at 7-Eleven
with Rex
Cartoons
after
school
Kickball and
dodgeball
under endless
foggy skies
of the Richmond
Plastic model jet planes
glued together in
balmy sun rooms
in August
Cliff House on the
beach
Trick or treating
at
mansions by the sea
in the dead of October
Staying over at cousin Kit’s house
laughter
til we slept
Unaware of the
outside world
Childhood dreams
ablaze
with hope
and
life
and
mystery
and
magic

Now
he works an eight to five
Now
he is so
tired
he comes home and sleeps
at 9
after a
dinner of microwave chicken and frozen
California vegetables
Now
the days pass him by
Now
the adventures pass him by
Now
he sees Rex
Mom and
Dad
on Thanksgiving
and New Years and
vacations to Vegas
if there’s money
leftover
His people
a thousand miles away
His apartment
empty
Television playing
but no one watching
Dazed by
the nightmare endless
void
of the
internet
the endless
noise
of the silent
internet

No
more roaming
the
streets of San Francisco
No
more
plastic airplanes
and the smell of
glue
No
more
Shinobi and
street fighters
at
Korean liquor stores
No
more
swings and slides and sand
pink popcorn bricks and cherry icees with Mommy
in
Golden Gate Park
No more
Christmases
under the tree
No
more
mansions by the sea
Now
until
sixty or seventy or
eighty
The end of days
The end of youth
The
clock
ticking away

Yet
still he sits
in his red chair
from
Ikea
and he dreams
of
golden days gone by.

 

 

The Good Old Days

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