No Upanishads
No pink or elephant cups
No flirting
Just talk like sailors
And the ship sails on to a stagnant present
I saw the boy I broke
I saw the boy
I passed him a note
I told the waitress to take it to him
I stood while the bartender watched
but not inquisitively,
I wrote it against the orange wall
At the vegan cafe
I told the waitress I would be outside smoking if he wanted to discuss it
Fifteen years ago
When oil paint on paper grocery bags taped to the wall
of a junkie's house
was more alluring than
the art institute who said our portfolios had promise
What do you do now?
Something in galleries.
Business card
He dropped me off at that house
Just like my dad did
and the bus driver
and anyone I could get to drive me there
I was already Persephone
My love, my first wife,
wrote a poem in the ether
and wrote a poem every time I saw her with Jasmine
floating on the air all around her
as she made me lavender tea
There are some women you can never forget
Indeed
Per say
When we could only get married in Hawaii
He came outside after reading the note
It was a reunion
Anti-enthusiastic
The bartender, the scholar, the bachelor,
the boss, the poet, the man who wanted to separate from his wife,
we sat and watched as the world slowed down under the waning moon.
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