Black Diamond


by Jason Bredle



Then all of a sudden


we were getting off the train at the zoo, 


only to find the zoo closed at sunset. 


I guess the animals need their beauty rest, 


you said, but it was too cold for the zoo, 


and you had to get on a plane to London. 


I’d been through this 


so many times before,


always with a mix of sadness 


and irritation with its tedious nuances—


never the canteen, compass,


or first aid kit one would need.


I boarded a flight to Copenhagen 


the next day, and the rest, as they say, 


has been redacted. 


Still, I’ll never forget that night 


standing outside the World of Sex, 


wondering, is this it? 


It was something someone once asked me 


on the mezzanine 


of the Miami Intercontinental 


and it seemed apropos, 


as if I were experiencing some kind of 


reverse déjà vu. 


You’ll never really figure anything out


and everything is totally random,


yet, for some reason, you have to keep going. 


And at the end of the day, 


what do you have to show for it?


Four and a half weeks in Berlin 


without ever having seen the sun?