Go To Where I Won'T See You Poem by Windsor Guadalupe Jr

We slur in our speech,
Because we thought in intoxication,
That acceptance is within reach
But nay, he said
The acquiescent night looms a darkness
That is known within men,
Men who find forlorness
As a withered, day-late friend

Because they say
That bliss, in an other-worldly prose
And sonnets that consume you
Whilst the starvation of hands with filthy mouths,
Is but a neglected, postponement of what seems to be
The decay, the death of one’s own desolation
My feet, cold and blistered, waded across
The calloused road of jagged rocks
And streetlights of crude candor

Where are you in the dark?
You left
Because you are, among all the souls,
That long for an answer in every inquiry,
But an enslaved, screeching horror
Of disputed belongingness
Across a plane of fanciful souls

Outstretched arms shorten,
In every roof beam of deprived wonder
Are you acclimated to your own frigidity?
I swore I saw your face before
Glum and abysmal
Wretched and not pontifical
You almost had the pomposity
The chivalrousness of a dauntless knight
In the scythed arms of the lone, howling night
If love begets love,
Where are you?

You are nowhere to be found
I saw you in the halls today
With your vicious stare and viscous sputum of filthy words;
Arms outstretched with handbags
Your prolix mouth, once sapid and fragrant,
Now turned scowling and flagrant,
With a scent that is unmatched
With the sewers of abandonment
Forlorn, in distress of abused wet pavements
Where are you in my desolation?

I swear not to call on you,
In the midst of my dilemma
And so I raise my goblet
An empty, chagrined, grotesque oblate spheroid
Where are you?
I don’t know.
Go to where,
I won’t see you.