“Coitus Interruptions by Vehicular Homicide”

“Coitus Interruptions by Vehicular Homicide”

Me and three friends leaning against a light pole finishing a smoke, waiting for some tables to clear on a patio near the street
Inside they are listening to the latest radio rock hits, laughing loud, shooting pool and drinking beer
The food taste the same in there, but I think Id much prefer the outside scene and atmosphere
The corner table cleared and we swiftly took a spot, food wrappers and half full mixers still in our sight
After placing an order we just sat for awhile talking about things that make us who we are and how much we can’t stand being ourselves
Boosting our own egos, calling each other out on flaws and inherent character traits we are ashamed of, knowing all along each of us possess them ourselves and many more
Before the food comes we all light up another cigarette and pause in our conversation to turn our attention to frolicking pigeons
Sitting just a few feet above us on the deli roof we see them start the their instinctive mating ritual
One flies away and lands in the street in front of us, the other bombs down barely missing our heads
Looking like a kamikaze pilot, not recognizing the irony of his own actions he joins his new found lover in the street
Every table on that patio looked on, putting down their drinks, stopping whatever they were saying, delaying taking a bite from their sandwiches
We just sat and watched as they briefly made love in the middle of the street, not paying any of us attention
So free, so beautiful, so uninhibited by the self conscious restrictions we place on ourselves for no reason other then to feel ashamed and embarrassed of the most natural of feelings and actions
I think we all felt that desire and yearning to be just like those birds, to openly love and be loved because we knew it was right, because we knew it was natural, because we knew it was beautiful
I know we all felt the time slow down and almost come to a stop as we watched in horror, as we watched in fear, as we watched in a perverse subtle hunger
The truck that had been steadily driving down Young Ave. was finally approaching the two still interlocked
We all took a deep breath and held it until the wheel crushed the thrusting body of one of the birds and the other flew away, without worry of her newly trodden lover
Simultaneously everyone let out their breath with a slight tinge of disappointment, relief and a morbid humor fulfilled
In true voyeuristic fashion I lit another cigarette and just stared at the bloody trampled foul who only moments ago was at the height of pleasure and now laid flat and dismembered
The crowd had moved on and rejoined their previous conversations, our food came and we started eating and talking about other issues of the day
Still, long into my meal I could not get my eyes to stop averting to the bird and I could not stop entertaining the thoughts that maybe nature was symbolizing something to us
Perhaps it was telling us that one moment we could all find ourselves the victims of something infinitely more powerful
That we can only do what we are born to do, even if it ends up leaving us a bloody pile of crushed bones in midtown
That when all is said and done, one lover just won’t care as much as the other did and fly away without a second consideration
That we are nothing but beings that are bent on self destruction if it will bring us momentary pleasure
That through sex we do experience the death of the self by becoming one with another, but afterwards there is nothing to face but the death of the newly formed self as well
Or any other thing I read into the birds demise, but can’t recall now
Perhaps I am just being myself again and over analyzing everything that most likely means nothing
Like the way you seem to avoid eye contact with me now, and never seem to have much to say on a personal level
The way it’s inevitable that something will come up every time I am free to hang out with you
The way you sometimes still get a smile when I compliment you, but quickly remove it
The way you say you enjoyed my new poem, but sound slightly troubled feeling that it is probably about you
I could say that it isn’t, and this one isn’t either, but it wouldn’t change the truth at all
we would both know those references could only refer to you
I also can’t say this will be the last one I write with you in mind, I guess I am just like the birds and maybe nature was telling me something after all
I have fallen victim to something that I don’t understand, and is infinity more powerful then I can imagine
I can only do what I am born to, I have to write down these feelings and thoughts even though It may end up with me being a bloody pile of bones in midtown
I have put myself out there, and if something does happen one of us will care more then the other, and it will end most likely with you flying away without a second consideration
I am self serving and am hoping for pleasure, knowing if it does come at all it will be followed by a price I am not willing to pay for
I am just beginning to figure this self out, maybe its needs time to grow before being destroyed again.