Ed Gabrielsen

Published in Litmus, a poetry journal from the Texas A&M English Department, spring 1988.
For my brother, Tom.

First Rhapsody

Back in a mainstream
Standing in the Southwood Theater parking lot
We watched the line curve around the building
. . . no room for us this time,
But it didn’t matter.
We stood and laughed to the night sky
Bright from city lights, glistening chrome bumpers,
And gleaming glass . . . horizontal jam,
But the vertical high was infinite
To the dome overhead . . . infinite highness
The ultimate distance.

(How great the distances that sometimes
come between those who love to laugh
in parking lots
And sometimes the blackness of the asphalt
Swallows my heart, and sometimes parking lot
blues choke my throat so I can’t sing . . .)

Jumping back into the mainstream movie line
We leaned luxuriously against an inhabited
Blue 1956 station wagon, my brother and I
Wandering from the winter solstice
To the middle days of January . . .
Which is the direction? . . . only up is infinity
(but perhaps others too)
And learning this in a city of bright lights and
Long lines, I’ll bring it back through
bumpers of chrome.
Far from home
I wandered and will return
on a night much like tonight
with a new ribbon round my head.

Austin, Texas
December, 1988.

Photo by John Stewart.

For finding this piece in the archives, I am grateful to:

Vaprrenon “Vappy” Severs, Library Specialist III

The Kelsey Reading Room

Cushing Memorial Library & Archives
Texas A&M University Libraries
5000 TAMU | College Station, TX 77843-5000