Pluralities

Ralph Adamo

I hate that you are on the other side this evening

If I go somewhere to cry for you how will I stop

I hope this finds you well. It's been too long,

I typed when you were already gone.

Listening to you talk

over there is like

listening to water

I compose

you are here

music breaking whitely

one track crossing over another

to reach disaster

Shooed from the blues I stand

against one breeze

and feel the summer's cascade

buggy and wet in my blood

I a sunken man with an old nose and long eyes

wind-shredded

used to the way little becomes less

unprepared for bounty

whittling sorrow down to its toothsome size

****

The little house of my dead first wife

blows me a kiss as I go past

on wheels, the sidewalk cracks

one more lame joke to boot, and

then I am on the other side, again.