My Dear Michael,
So that we can remember the day we met:
I walked along and I saw Mickey Mouse tee-shirt. I’d just gotten a glass of water and said mucho danke shane but had too much sweat on my face to pull it off. The man looked at me with sternness? Soft sternness of a young man who is just excited to be old so that he can just give up.
And then I saw you. And then, we walked. We talked. Talking and walking. Excited for life. Looking only into each others’ right eyes. Excitement. A good pace. Sweat. Safety in friendship. Even friendship with The Stranger.
A strange friend.
Amazing poetry was spat and mine was crass and the way it should land in society. I was moving on up.
You asked me how i was going to be famous.
You knew what would make me feel better and better and better –
an intuition so brave.
And a little while later or earlier all the time piles and dances around like pebbles near a beach near a beach, i said. They know you’ll probably just go to the beach.
Not to look at them or touch them. A Scottish beach, near Inverness.
You cried just a few tears. Like a giggle, the opposite of that.
You don’t even know what you have anymore.
But you’ve got a little bit of me. Over the bridge and dumpling craving and the songs we sung by Stevie Wonder. You told me you’d been yelling. you told me about the power of a friendship bracelet. You told me that you liked my hat. You liked the asian, but when he turned back he looked like he was going for war.
You carried it. You carried us. You liked it that way. i had the energy to do that for someone at night.
A girl not as fun. A girl not as fun as me. Not as lose as me. Not as defined as me.
How i felt next to the girl. Are we still in grade school in school in heirarchy of life and heads that are bigger and better than all of the rest? And we will puff it up, like puff daddy russel simmons and cordial wine on the back porch you wanted to dien. I used to be better I used to be better at letting go. Now the stream is clear and comes straight from the mouth of the source. Love. Up-end and up-turn my words and I’ll wave at you like a Queen.
You will know what to do about the date. Amanda Love is the righteous song.
You tried to edit my poem. Said that it shouldn’t have ended with ‘idot.’
But you see, Michael, I am not afraid of being an idiot. And, neither are you. I won’t let you.
We will see each other again, my darling. You can always write me and I’ll do my damnedest to reply. Why wouldn’t I? I had the best date ever. You’re a good kid. I can’t exactly say I love you but I do love.
Please keep in touch over the years. You’re going to be very famous. I’ll see to that. I wasn’t carrying you, Em. You were carrying me. Peace Be With You.