Looking in my mirror, I’m not quite half-impressed
in my shiny, out-of-season pants and thirty-year old vest.
Wing-tips must be somewhere in my rat-hole of a place.
And onceupon I owned a comb to run across my face.
Tighten up my noose tie, and then I just must fly.
I’ve got a date to say goodbye.

Skitter out the front door, and so long to neighborhood!
Late to reach the train and escape Dodge, just as I should
to enter new environs and arrive in better parts
of a city well past sleeping that contains all of the arts.
I find myself in SoHo where the beautiful all come by
and to the place where I must say goodbye.

There is someone I must meet here whom I will not see again.
She was someone very recently whom I once called a friend.
But that isn’t how things are now; as they say: good things must end
even though for more than six months there, I tried hard to pretend…

In the distance, I can see her. Like a vision she awaits.
At this moment, this is starting just like all our other dates
where I cannot catch my breath as I watch her from afar
then I stumble stupefied toward the one with whom I’ll spar.
It’s time to close the distance. No longer will I spy.
I must approach to say goodbye.

I walk near. I say hello. We hug. We kiss. I smile.
I warm up in her presence like it hasn’t been a while
since we weren’t last together. Like it won’t be longer still
’til we see each other next. I say no longer we’ll
be in each others lives. And she doesn’t mind. I sigh.
It doesn’t seem to matter much to her. We’ve said goodbye.
Our life together ends today. It’s over now. Goodbye.