Smoking
Pacing
Thinking

Talking to the poet
You never know
He can be cruel sometimes
Funny other times
Crude
Convoluted
Compassionate
Delusional
Banal

Repeating his cliches
Over and over
Controlling like a blackberry bramble
"Time to write this down"
"Put it up"
He says like some kind of
*******

We walk
We pace
I smoke

We sit in the sun
He's a stoner & a drunkard
Sometimes it's the ocean
Sometimes it's a lake
Sometimes it's the backyard
Alders trembling

We stare off into space
And wonder
what's next
He disappears forever
He reappears down the road

Best friend
Worst roommate
Couldn't live without him
He writes these poems in a composition book
Progress notes
States of mind
Whatever it is he's trying to find

We talk
We pace
I smoke

Tomorrow
We'll do it all over again
Like it was the first time.