FOOL THAT I AM

he lives downstairs from me in another life. the one where we knew each other beyond greetings that bordered on a formality: i saw him naked. i didn't look on my own. at the sound of his movements, i turned towards the adult steps of a man trying not to be seen, though he watched me all along. he wanted to move quicker; fast enough so that i might not glimpse him in his barren state. he knew he would bear the mask of shame that i would not be cursed to turn into a pillar of salt or lose my sight.

but i saw him. excited. embarrassed. aware. in this life, we barely can get the words out before we are passing one another. glad that the moment we shared but wished we hadn't was halfway over & would be completely done once we were no longer occupied the same space. we used to talk at the mailbox. stand in doorways leaning, waiting for the next conversation to keep up us glued in place. in that life, we wanted some of the same things, longed for common dreams to become realities, & all the while, we never said what we wanted. the dancing around of black histories & sheltered heartbeats would never allow this.

each of the moments since then became lives of their own, & in those lives, memory forgot our names. never uttered. but i knew him & he knew me & there didn't need to be any words spoken. instead, tokens of stolen time coupled with movements across hardwood floors to answer doors to return mail or just check in after not seeing one another for weeks at a time became the silence that haunts both of us to this day.

years from now, you will say that was your intention: to make me yearn for you. foolishly, i will wave away this remark; pass it off as just your bravado. then, just as now & later, your words will be truthful. i believed you because i wanted to...not because you knew what you were doing.

silly how this one step beyond has made us something else to one another though it will take years before we go back to being what we started off as. we used to conjure beyond the part of life we take in our hands where fingers joined to greet & close out informal lapses of fellowship on hallway landings & greystone porches. that's what we had...

"don't you know him?"

"yeah...he lives in my building."

"don't you all speak?"

"naw, not really."

"that's messed up. he is your neighbor"

"maybe, but that's all he is."

" didn't say he was more. is he?"

"whatchu mean?"

...you knew already. ashamed. confused. embarassed. barren. naked. watching me watch you in a split second. knowing. in another life, you lived downstairs from me. watching yourself walk up one flight of stairs to knock on my door, there, you kissed me for first & last time. there was no need to speak anymore after that. i remember this; can't forget.

the moment the words came out
i knew it was over. again.

technology is a calulated bitch
& if you use it too much for business
it becomes your business
& becomes more you than you

to program people
with the right information,
try person-to-person

text mails should never be your option

but it was

& the moment the words came out
i knew it was over. again.

i know things

for instance,
i know you did not call
because you didn't
& you couldn't talk to me
because you didn't

but why does not change what
& when the words came out
i knew it was over. again.

silence speaks volumes
words contain silent consonants & vowels
pronouced aloud, life is spelled with letters
that you could have spoken on your own

but didn't

i am not the district of columbia
& some taxes i will not pay
for where i am at in my life,
i cannot allow safe passage
of ambiguous barges of cargo
neither approved or recommended
by the heart of me

but thank you for saying what you did
& not saying what you should've because
now that the words & silences have come out,
i am almost there...

H.
12-14-2005

tired as hell, but nowhere near home so sleeping isn't an option

trying to figure out just how much of my sanity i can hold on to in this neighborhood where the pimps & whores block my path into the liquor store

almost through with love...but not through enough to give up

a few years shy of my doctorate...but too scared to get up & leave chicago

really scared about leaving my family

not worried about what people say about me

constantly struggling to be the best man/father/brother/nephew/son i can be...it's hard as hell...really

in desperate need of an answer as to why labels really matter...for real

in agreement with brenda russell's claim of "in the thick of it...better get a grip & get it on!"

still tired after dancing all saturday night into sunday morning

hungry as hell

not that excited about the holidays...but i plan on being full

clearly in need of some intellectual stimulation outside of the hgtv network

still cleaning my house of my ex's remnants

still convinced i should live alone even if mr. right pops his invisible ass up

automatically turned off by people with color complexes

even more turned off by the "our kind of people" black folks

still trying to meet two of my father's children who live in the midwest

still working on my book

trying to cut back on smoking & drinking (mostly at the same time)

up late most nights reading & writing

a good man...though not always to myself

waiting on someone to teach me how to drive a stick-shift

excited about going to north carolina

nervous about going to north carolina

glad my plants are growing

trying to decide

happy about the birth of my grandnephew

cautious about being in love again

worried about my mother

constantly amazed, while not surprised, by what i see on the local news alone

going to go back to dance class

mostly in good spirits

not intrigued enough to answer "blocked," "unavailable," or "anonymous" phone calls

still moved by james baldwin's "just above my head"

going to go somewhere to eat...right now

leaving...

H.
11-7-2005

for leroy whitfield

remember when we used to have
those nostalgic moments
where we'd imitate our parents
& do their dances from back in the day?
we didn't need music as we'd be in your/my
living room doing the fool while
moving in between cool-ness & slick-hood
we'd do the "search", the "freak" & the "football"
while egging each other on with laughter

remember when
i lived in hyde park in the coach house
around the corner from your brother

& we'd get together & walk a few
blocks away to the health food store
& to hollywood video on 53rd street where
we were happy as hell cuz the soy milk was on sale
& those trips to the co-op grocery store for parmesean
to make the alfredo sauce...

at night, we'd read anne rice aloud to one another
or watch movies on your laptop until we both fell asleep

other moments found us
looking out over the city from your old apartment
on 21st and michigan avenue where we held on to one another
while watching the streetlights stretch out for miles.

funny moments, loving moments
(did i ever tell you i learned to love from you?)
that lasted even when you moved

& then you came & visited

that time my roommate caught us naked in the bed
(that was funny)
or
that time you did that sparkling rendition of ethel merman
singing prince's "kiss"
(that was funny & scary...but mostly funny)
or
the time we caught the greyhound to birmingham
& missed our bus during our layover in nashville
on the way back home
or
all those other times & spaces where you let me in

& let me love you while loving me all along/asking for nothing
giving everything

leroy,
i have stopped crying so much,
as your spiritual hand has wiped away
the path of tears down my face,
but i miss you something awful

& there's so much i want to say
& so much i should've done
& so much of you that is still here with me
that i don't know some moments...

but in all those moments both near & far,
you have been alright with me...
& i can never nor will i ever forget you
or your amazing spirit.

leroy,
i love you...still

H.
11-2-2005