Do you remember me
like I remember you?
Shakespeare class together
in our hippie high school
I remember our legs entwined
lying on our backs and sharing
one volume; you played Demetrius
to my Helena; it was spring
unfolding all around us
and like the most obvious
O'keefe sort of bloom
we filled up every corner
of that room with our untried
adolescence
(the teacher, frustrated and stern
only because I was ******* him
too)
By the end of that summer
my Demetrius had landed in
a cell- he could throw a good brick
through the window of anywhere
I asked but, alas, he couldn't do it
well
Come senior prom one year later
I had forgotten all about him
and he about me; forty years
later we seem to have got
everything we craved, that is
everything but the real thing
and that's good enough for
me