As soon as I landed in the Teacher’s Center <br />I said, “Anthony, I heard stories.” <br />“What stories, Bernstein.” <br />“The Blue Babies, you’re giving ‘em away, <br />but not to me.” <br />“Not so loud, ” he said, eyes darting about the room. <br />Suddenly: “Hello, Anthony” from Princess Rothchild <br />a smile, then sauntering to a chair she called her Throne. <br />“You been holding out, ” I said, not <br />letting him off the hook. <br />Immediate laughter, the space where his <br />front teeth were, <br />hitting me between the eyes. <br />“I swear on my mother, Bernstein.” <br />“What! <br />she’s been dead eighteen years <br />I was at the funeral, remember? <br />and who stuffed your gut with Yellow Wonders <br />so you wouldn’t crack up. Me.” <br />“My other mother, ” he mumbled <br />clearly grasping at straws <br />then silence, a quick stare at Princess Rothchild <br />and the immediate giggle from her. <br />I said slowly: “We ain’t crazed druggies, <br />just need a bit of peace <br />at night, if the bad dreams <br />storm the soul.” <br />“Always the Poet, Bernstein, ” he said <br />again trying to shift facts. <br />Silence, both weary <br />realizing we weren’t tough galoots <br />the world having kicking us in the ass <br />for years, now only a few left <br />when Anthony sighed <br />all breath crushed from his chest <br />finally pulling out a handful <br />of sky blue Beauties. <br />“For me? ” I asked merrily. <br />“Does things my wife never will.” <br />From the corner of my eye <br />Princess Rothchild moving in <br />Anthony hadn’t spotted her <br />the Hefty One Zip gallon storage bag <br />already open <br />and waiting, a moment later <br />the tumbling.<br /><br />Charles Chaim Wax<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/spiritual-entanglement/
