I call my friend once a year,
I'm glad to hear his voice,
At first..O what can I be thinking?
I hope for a disconnection,
Instead of a reconnection
To a time I tried hard
To lose for the last twenty
Years or so.

He answers on the second ring, I know its no good
From the first,
He's much too hoarse,
And a bit manic.
I know where this angle
Of conversation is heading.
"Hey Man, how you doin"
I say, "Tommy I been buying
All my stuff on EBAY"
I congratulate him,
Aware nothing I own
Is EBAY. Before I get a chance
To formalize this, He launches into death And status, Tequila and cars,
Not once recognizing where
Time has gone.
Only his trip to Florida
In his Mercedes,
How I lost my footing
All those summers ago.
I tell him- attempt to tell him
Things change, They did
Or I'd die.
He's much too self-contained
To die. He speaks of someone
He knows( Louie I think)
Died, never slowing for a moment so I can ask The
Prerequisite question:
Who's Louie, I don't know
Any **** Louie.
I try to tell him Of writing,
A couple of poems published
In a small mag, Then he tells me....Hoarse, manic, he tells me, how he's become a model
Citizen, I congratulate him
Once more on his well found
Status. By now
I'm thinking of an out.
But I have no time,
Here comes the next ten minutes of grunts and affermations. And I want out,
But I want out With a little
Verisimilitude. Goodbye
To his 1800 Tequila,
And his 300 SL,
And his pomp and his arrogance. And my ear
Numb in the reciever.
And I'm looking to a place
Most never see,
A field waiting, swaying
With the summer,
Still in winter.
Outside, the blue of twilight's
Falling.... I crinkle a paper near me, I say my call waiting. I've gotta go.
He says call anytime.
I say soon. Talk to you soon.

I hang up, sit in the silence awile, listening to the night sounds.
Remind me to call him
Next year.
      
      ( For R.)