summer boy tire swing muddy
surf and sand your voice –
you mumble – it’s the braces
fight with your brother fight
with the whole world of
crumbled families crumpled smiles problems
typical and only yours alone
it’s hard to know you
hiding in your chambered nautilus
we spent some time together

at night, downtown furniture store,
second floor, some simple lessons
on setting, character, conflict among
the desks – I studied with
him, feeling some affinity for
drama that never did play
out – we students were all
hapless amateurs, one had a
character named “Moo” – or maybe
all she said was “Moo”?

fifty words from December 1998:

Don has a tremendous sense of moral duty. It’s against everything I stand for. Ha, just kidding. I have a tremendous sense of moral duty as well, but I’m trying hard to transfer my sense of duty from what — Grindstones and Millstones and Treadmills, to Whispers and Bubbles and Honeysuckle.

she has a definite immunity
to everything – weather, earthquakes, mishaps
at work, misunderstandings among friends,
aging, unemployment, ill health, ill
will – what protects her? youth,
skills, unassailable prettiness, her coats
for all occasions? or more
subtle forces, such as her
grandmother or a jade necklace –
whatever, may it last forever!

rare – a personal moment between
me and a teacher, 1969,
8th grade – you struggle to
compose a written message in
my yearbook – it turns out
grammar-garbled, a mess in
ink, endearing – a revelation that
an English teacher (though Italian)
could make such mistakes – my
dumb wonder, did you like me?

sunlight lover, her surface seems
to brighten every year, new
layers of gilt and polish –
she aspires to become a
minor sun, gleaming here in
a select system of admirers –
her warmth extends to lost
and grieving children as she
must have grieved when
members of the family left us

we pulled in your driveway
off Lokoya Road – couldn’t knock
so late, slept snuggled in
the car, listening to foxes
coughing in the wild grass

when I morning-met you, felt
surprised at your mild ways,
such cherubic plumpness – stories of
sensuous danger and romantic chaos
always circled ’round your name