With Years

“With years your drive goes down,”
Said Dick the bartender,
Fixing another gin and tonic—
It made me think
Of you, my darling, so young and tender—
Another memory, another drink,
Another tip, another moment squandered
On platitudes and unsolicited advice,
Unheeded by my gypsy heart that wanders
Along these lonely streets as years go by.

With years your drive goes down
And your soul
Becomes accustomed to the daily grind—
With years you, too, become a local clown
Indifferent to everything and blind.

With years your drive goes down
And it’s over—
Perhaps you marry or get happily divorced—
Whether you sleep alone or with someone,
You still can’t tell what’s better or what’s worse.

With years your drive goes down
Is all I know—
Perhaps my love for you was but a dream,
But I’ll have another drink before I go
Into the darkness with the final scream.


   May 23, 2001 
--Alexander Shaumyan