Thursday, September 8, 2016


I admit to being surprised to hear
that you managed to forgive her
for things of ill repute neither tasteful nor understated
nor without consequence to the innocent

Or that she agreed to meet with you for coffee at your old diner
the memory of your angry and bitter rebuke
still so painfully resonant in her ears

And that 
that affiliation was patched up
with not a little tenderness

This was a story about losing
Was it not?

I confess I was astonished
that the chance you took
against your last best judgment

Yielded some fast dividends
Particularly when the time was so perilously close to running out

That was some luck, my friend
Random f-ing chance the likes of which not seen
Since evolution of the first white American guy to make an honest dime

But this was
a story about losing
Was it not?

I can’t get over
the simplicity
of a transaction
in which kindness
seemed to lose you every advantage you went in with
and out you came
a pint less 
maybe more

But this was a story that
reached its losingest of conclusions
no other was in store

You still lost
Did you not?

Perhaps you missed the memo
Absent a day of school
Didn’t get the script
That explained that you were to walk this messy and broken world
A messy and broken soul
No reclamation
This was not going to end well
This was
in fact
not going to end for you at all

and I find this likely
and frightfully plausible

you had access to that redacted line at the end that everyone else missed