Where Are You Now?

After reading ‘TO AN OLD FRIEND’ by Neeli Cherkovski

We tasted the flatness of wine
In the Beacon Hill street
Raving from lunatic epilepsy,
Mock Jewish celibacy,
Cravings for hip-pocket poetry,
Retreat from the harsh light
Of loneliness.

I gave my best performance,
You, the appreciative audience,
Rolled cigars, invented perfume,
Sang songs we’ve forgotten the words of.

Neither knew what he wished to forget,
What he would abandon or betray…yet.
Neither had won Lake Tahoe,
Or hidden in the Canadian woods,
Or missed the rendezvous
In the combat zone. Or that cell.

Neither was yet who he would not be

I like the irony here, Peter, a good read.


Les

Thanks for noticing, Les. You are a precise reader.

Peter