Conversations with Men: A Summary

One man speaks of his exploits on a motorcycle.
Another man of how he told his boss just where to get off.
One man says when he was young he could run like the wind, he could really fly,
and another tells of a big storm, long ago, and he was far from home.

One man speaks of a woman who turned on him for no reason,
and another of a woman who loved him, but he didn't love her back.
One man speaks of all the drugs he used to take, back in the day,
and another of how he heard the voice of God in his heart.

And then there's all the men who say,

if only my father had been there for me,
if only I had (or hadn't) placed that bet,
if only my teachers hadn't conspired against me,
if only I had been sober,
if only my mother had been kinder,
if only my wife had been happy with what she had,
if only I could have told here how I feel,
instead of saying what I said, or saying it differently,

or if I hadn't lied,
or if I hadn't trusted the wrong people,
or if I had just kept my mouth shut,
or if all my hopes hadn't shattered on the rocks of circumstance.

And then there are those who remember how something felt:

how it felt like a dream,
or it felt like a kick in the gut,
or it felt like flying,
or it felt like sex.

And they say,

back when I was in the Navy,
back when I was slim,
back when I triumphed over all my foes,
back when I fought for a righteous cause,
back when I had all the girls chasing after me,
back when I was young,

way back when.