I

Beset by demons, driven wild, dreams disconsolate.
He sacrificed himself to his own broken dream.

By early morning birdsong he had read the note.
She had indeed gone as she had threatened.
He squatted on his haunches and wept.

He thought right away to take the thing in hand
And destroy the one thing they had had together,
The embodiment of their dreams.

It was a large place, the restaurant, with a very nice situation on the water,
And from there the view of the whole City was unmatched,
But they had run into difficulties, and it wasn't working out.

He worked hard all that day, working on the view that when he got to the point
Where everything was ready to go, he would do it,
Unless an inner voice deterred him.

He had much stockpiling to do to get things ready.
He wanted everything to go up all at once so that nothing,
Not even his body, could be salvaged.

The sign on the restaurant door that day said: "Closed due to illness in the family"
But on the inside the work was proceeding fast.
He was a strong man and driven, so by dusk all was readied.

Now it was time for the gasoline, and he poured it all about quite liberally.
He said goodbye tenderly to each piece of furniture, each room, each area.
Then he lay on the zinc-topped table in the kitchen and folded his hands over his heart.

II

The firehouse was next door, but the place was
Too far gone by the time they saw the flames.
The flames were beautiful in the early Autumn night.
Whole families stood and watched
In open-mouthed curiosity, the children especially.

For days succeeding, the neighborhood talked.
Some said that she had taken all the money, some said no.
Some said she had run away with a lover, some said no.
Some said he used to beat her, some said no.

It seemed odd that no one really knew them, not even their names.
Though they put a search out for her, she never turned up.
They had to tear down the structure after some months.
On the surface of the earth the building left no trace.

Twenty years later, only a few of us even know the story.
Only a couple of us were there.
And no one has mentioned it for a long while. 

But I believe the foundations of the structure are still there,
Under the ground, straight and true witnesses to his sickness of heart,
Impacted testimony of a love, his love, his dead love, that could find no way.

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Check Dr. Lawrence Nannery's Poetry Collection:
"Translations from the Cinema"
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