Boog at 30/ David A. Kirschenbaum

Cleveland by Midnight

These were the first two days of Boog, August 5-6, 1991, 30 years ago. We were headed to Cleveland because of d.a. levy and planned to visit Euclid Avenue and the flats part of town. Rod Sperry cofounded Boog and was co-editor though spring of 1993. Rachel Aydt is our friend and Boog’s first non-editor author, Judy Phoenix my ex who cheated on me and I was fleeing west from.

kiss mom goodbye in morning with heartfelt embrace and many kisses and strangling hug grab

too many bags for busride and say i’ll call her when i’m upstate

get rod to go to bus,

he doesn’t have near as many bags, never will or does

and dad drops us off at bus station and we hug and kiss after rod’s firm offered hand

and dad leaves before the bus does–he always does–but not until after he’s bought us coffees with a Mad magazine and a Newsday to boot,

so we sit near these real young yet beautiful teens and they’re in awe or something

maybe just amazed, at the way we, well I, can just entertain or talk nonstop about the least or most inconsequential things,

like Debbie Gibson three-page spread in that day’s entertainment section,

which I rip out to save as she is one of my few weaknesses, 

waiting on long lines to buy tickets for her shows 

to which I go alone, with tens of thousands of teenage girls, and their moms, 

so after bus ride made longer by rod’s constant queries

– “How much longer?” “Are we there yet?”–

we arrive in Albany to waiting Rachel, 

grab our many bags 

and bus to printer where we get first poetry books

and look like expectant parents

We head to my apartment for long day’s packing and readying for UPS before next day’s drive,

so they go hunting for boxes, leaving lonely depressed me alone, to wonder what I actually need

–I need it all–

and I pack little or randomlessly while waiting for them to come back

and late in day ex-girlfriend Judy meets us to help,

and we do fast run to UPS ’fore that day’s close 

and then we all go to Halfmoon Cafe for small dinner before that night’s poetry reading

and Judy leaves after veggie meal,

and we go to readin’, proud parents with new poetry books in tow,

and rachel and rod read well,

but somehow I read better, at least for a night,

taking all my angst, my loneliness and fears and spewing them out in the form of depressing poetry about

dead grandmothers and dead me, and lost loves, 

and they really enjoy it as I can tell by their faces

and afterward we sell books,

then we three, with Ray and Deb head to bar ’round corner for few beers and many laughs and thoughts,

exchanging poetic judgment upon the masses

it’s great to be full of yourself in a bar with a beer in your hand and the jukebox blaring, loudly 

Rache and Rod return with me to apartment for some more packing, 

but instead we talk and write in each other’s poetry books,

and walk Rachel home and exchange last kisses with her cause we’re off tomorrow to Cleveland,

Rod and I languish in beds, 

well, on top of blankets which will be coming with us in back of car tomorrow for comfort on road’s side while ambling, resting after ambling cross roads,

and finally, after much talking and mindless blather, we fall off,

realizing we have to begin driving to Cleveland tomorrow so we can be one step closer to Chicago

Awakening to morning sun, we 

meet Judy and UPS more boxes and grab breakfast at MickeyD’s with her 

and I hug her tightly, rubbing ’gainst her on accident, wishing it was on purpose,

and we kiss softly and I hold her hand and say goodbye

and I’ll write her while traveling and when I get to frisco

and rod and me head to apartment for more packing,

where we gather everything from broken glasses to teflon frying pans,

and scatter them about into boxes labeled SF and LI 

and then we run back and forth to post office in Capitol

and we’re only left with my stereo,

which we’ve decided can come with us to Cleveland and we’ll mail it from Chicago the next day,

everything’s done

keys are dropped off

phone and electricity and heat disconnected

and we figure we’ll say one more goodbye to Rachel as last night’s one went so well,

and arriving at taco joint with backseat filled to rim with spensive stereo covered with cushy grey and blue blankets,

we grab cups of coffee and she sees us and wonders what we’re doing there

last goodbye ’fore car ride, last goodbye before Cleveland by midnight we say,

and she sits a bit and runs about a bit,

hair flopping over her eyes, customers besieging her during summer lunch rush

–it seems Mexican’s the only thing anybody eats anymore around here–

so she’s off work in a few minutes and we’re waiting for her,

as by now, after seeing Rachel, we’re not so sure if we want to be in Cleveland by midnight, 

hell, we probably couldn’t be there until 2 a.m. if we stopped and snacked and gassed and pissed

so me alone, with friends, mind way whacked,

goes to park with two pals, to contemplate everything,

to think about it all,

and we start roughhousing like children as we are and always will be,

throwing one another into the grass and even Rachel gets into it,

hell, just as good as us,

and we’re snapping last pictures–frantically– since we won’t be seein’ each other for months,

and then Rod jumps into my arms and I drop him,

and he falls hard upon soft grass,

and off to car, as she walks away and I say,

“Hell, Cleveland by 2 a.m.”

and Rod and I sit in car opening bags of corn chips and jugs of soda and thinking if we want to do anything,

no less one-driver drive cross country,

so’s we holler, “Rache!”

and she meets us by many distorted limb tree 

and we cancel trip and spend, plan to spend next few days by her place,

on two-person sleeper non-Castro couch,

bringing rental car back to Albany, by 7 p.m.