Connection Noir (Stardust)

Jeremy Greene

I’m writing a draft of this poem
while you sit two seats away.
The same row. Only separated
by the company in which you keep.

If not for continuing to connect 
I know that our signal would not track.
And though I have these deep, rich,
and fruitful feelings, the heartbreak 
of image never obtaining dreams
breaks me down.

Some would say it’s good 
to be humbled. Heartbreak
rooted in rejection fuels a drive
to be seen as the one. Yet, I know
that all of the articulations which 
I have crafted through 
academics and written verse 
ain’t enough to reach your heart.

It is just further proof that we 
are at a stand still of soul.

All the poetry centers in the world
and here you sit. I arrived late after 
meeting with a mentor who reminded
me that my soul is a catch. Yet, any 
catch requires awareness of the 
elements at play. To walk in, see you 
with another, and know that you didn’t 
say anything about being here after
a possible 7-hour drive from home
is the last hurt. Even though I know 
you’re both here to support another.

Effort is needed for connection.
Effort is needed to enrich connection 
with the infusion of dreams.
Effort is needed to sustain connection 
even when reality is a bigoted hellscape.

The majority of the time I am
down where you live I make
efforts to connect. Yet, the same 
recognition of the soul I see you 
as also holding isn’t given to me 
as I walk into the place late in rain.

My dad once told me how he 
went through the same connective 
issues with my mother. 
Yet, they were Louisiana kids 
who grew up in the shadow of the 
murderous 60’s while you and I met
in the relative calm of some 
random house show.

The universe loves to show me 
that I am not whom I appeal 
to be to you. So, as I say goodbye
to you I await for the mist to 
reveal what I hope to now see.