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?