XI. 7 months 25 days 23 hours a veritable time table of the absence of your companionship. as minimalist as it had been. as all you did was sit on your shelf and wax poetic flow rhetoric a direct brainlink of literary genius between me and you You never accompanied me out on Saturday nights. to see just how pathetic the village has become. You never joined me to sit in darkened movie theaters to laugh my way through the most recent Hollywood Xplosion Xtravaganza You never wished to meet me at strange and unique restaurants We never went to Prospect Park You never came to school and you ignored my Slam completely. How you could stay inside all that time, and then disappear (presumably outside) is one of your better paradoxes but you were always antisocial.
|The East Village Poetry Web