The Crystal Ceiling
You were still handsome then
your curly black hair framed flawless skin
and straight teeth white in a smile
above spindly fingers probing the neck of your guitar, thrashing spider legs
crawling through my ears
plucking my emotions like flowers
cascading on a river bank
the soothing reverberations of your talent
enough to silence thoughts
the improbability of greatness
in a person before me
a man with average abilities besides--
--or boy, as you were
with a future as bright as your eyes
skimming Glendora Mountain’s winding Road
your right hand bucking jerkily
on the shifter of your yellow ’82 VW bus
while your left rubbed your nose amid laughter
Yes I like it you said
yes I do
and I laughed too
the crowing instigator of a new sensation for you
your partner in crime
who brought the coke and lined it
on a CD case
behind the grassy hillside
I worried that I would dig the hole too deep and narrow
collapsing the walls in on myself
I worried that I would, in my chemical experiments
develop an addiction
but I never worried about you.
Far more responsible than I
safe in the embrace of a loving wealthy family
the doted upon only child
I envied
I never thought you would be the one
to trip and trip and never catch your step
Because to me you were a mix of endearing idiosyncrasies
and intelligent conversations
jokes evolving faster than viruses
and your naivete when it was cute
an idealized version of you
causing most of your subsequent women
to hate me
for having you in some innocent past before
Your womanizing began
Your irresponsibility began
Your callousness began
Where did it all begin?
As much as I paradoxically hope not to find the beginning
I follow the thread but skin has grown over
Barely, a delicate layer that is sliced from beneath as I
Exhume intact a trailing hair from our past
So as much as I hope not to find it
in the end the root is clearly that twilight hour
driving down Glendora Mountain Road
high on your first addictive drug
that I supplied for you
And as much as you have forgiven me
by never blaming
and as much as bystanders advise
the pitfall was yours
a dully glowing pearl
waiting inside
for the right moment
that surely you would have found without me--
--As much as you are to blame
or maybe, considering the intricacies of fate,
more
I should not have shown you
that first step
on a long and monotonous staircase
to the crystal ceiling