stuttering napkins (for paul blackburn)

1.
i sit there in mc sorley’s
maybe a table away from you
& the firemen & cops
writing my poems
being “a man” at the ripe old age of late teenager
eating leiderkranz cheese crackers & onions
drinking a mixture of Guinness & light beer
until I am plastered
i was always alone with the sawdust
on my soles & lips
you – i there
through our histories –
our histories coinciding
yet never intertwining

  autumn now
your history in the history books
mine
like the soon falling leaves

we drink together
but apart
you survive as i perish
in a fine wind

let’s meet later at Max’s
      (the book store not the city)
                  then later
         i’ll play another version of that Rollins tune
you like so much

where was i while i was there in the middle of all this?
where was i?

it’s autumn
early to mid 1960s
as i exit the station
one fallen leaf
brown & brittle
lying on the subway steps –
a bit too early.