BROOKLYN & THE THESPIAN

BROOKLYN & THE THESPIAN

Ricardo Antonio Garcia

What of Brooklyn and the thespian that I knew?

Riding bicycles to the fruit market

back to the apartment filled with oddities

the fly man lived their.

An actor who collected dead flies

were her friends

keeping the vomit in my stomach

the things I saw in that room.

Separating from the curator of bloody pins

I got tired of the boxes of flies, so

I grabbed her hand and we flue the coop.

Had it been France

we would of made it so much further on

but the dreams of art and vineyards

stayed on long after

she had children and was gone from my life.

What of Seattle and the artist I wanted to be?

Derailed by love or so called love

I left my brushed and colors in a zipped bag

and occasionally stared at them.

An actor I never was but a painter I knew

was the effervescence of my calling.

I could of hobnobbed with Van Gogh

for I became as perplexing

as the days in Brooklyn and the thespian.

I grew weary of living out of a suitcase

and opening windows

to a different view each day that I traveled.

Had it been Germany

I would of found the love of my life waiting.

and she did come to me

Her, a work of art stepping out of a canvas

embracing everything I was.

What of Brooklyn and the thespian that I knew?

We all go on with our lives- don’t we?