Apocalyptic Date Idea #1
What if we kissed for the first time and I tried to stop it—
sprinting up the street, scraggly-bearded, soot-skinned, tears
across my face, minutes until the portal to my timeline closed
and I screamed bloody murder to halt oncoming cars
as I ran onto the block where I used to live,
sprinting past lawns overgrown with May sun,
a dumpster the length of three parking spots,
a mom and dad pushing their daughter on a swing
and I froze when I saw a blue beater, cigarette smoke
rising out the open window and I knew it was us by the sound
of our antic laughter, I was panting too hard to recall anything
I’d planned to say but just then a hand on my shoulder made me spin—
it was you, I knew your eyes
through the plastic window of your hazmat suit and you pulled me close,
I was sobbing because you had died in my timeline
but you held me and I held you like the flesh under my tattered clothes
could squeeze through your rubber and touch you—
what if when I opened my eyes to give your masked face a kiss
you’d moved feet away, sighing with relief at our past selves
and part of me wanted to run and yank my past self out of the window
while your past self drove off to somewhere safe but it was like you
were still holding me, I couldn’t move at all, I looked
down at my feet, they were disappearing into ash
but it felt like an embrace, it was happening to you too
and the last moment of my life was seeing our old car
shutting off,
going nowhere.
Apocalyptic Date Idea #69
What if we kissed at the Tony Soprano statue
in Lithuania, in boxers and bathrobes, coffee
mugs in our hands and walking towards bad news
at the curb of a depressive season— Tony at Y2K,
you and I at the rotten end of a consumer culture
that’s ruined our planet— kiss me like Tony and Carmela
kissed just one night, when they made up after a fight
and the Otis Redding kicked in— when they tried
for another baby, believing in tomorrow—
Julián Martinez (he/him) is the son of Mexican and Cuban immigrants and from Waukegan, IL. His poems have appeared or are forthcoming in HAD, Hooligan Mag, Maudlin House and elsewhere. His work has received The Society of Professional Journalists’ Mark of Excellence and has been nominated for the Pushcart Prize. Find him online @martinezfjulian or www.martinezfjulian.com or IRL in Chicago, IL.