January 1988 - page 4

cries came from across the room

a boy missing his mother and on

my side an old man with a walker

who was trying to sit...  somewhere

between those extremes I am.

except for the color of her hair the

girl of my dreams sat in front of me,

except for the largeness of her hips

and the smallness of her chest,

her figure seemed to be ideal,

except for her smile and too much

makeup, she had a pretty face,

except for my marriage I

would have wanted her a lot.

the lady did not show

much initiative until

she became a boss.

a woman and two men too familiar

with each other lived out of the same

suitcase for weeks at a time...  one 

left and the other's routine fell apart.

we rely on each other

too much perhaps,

one day we'll not be

there for each other,

then what will we do?

at the end of the room,

there she sits...

around the room she

nervously looks...

acting relaxed...

I imagine who she is

and why she is there,

she leaves before I'm finished.

at nineteen she lived to the east of me,

I lived on the left...  the far left since the

other side was too conservative for me.

we take our coffee break

having tea instead...  others

prefer something sweet.

and to his father the little boy states,

in no uncertain terms...

"you shouldn't get yourself a present

'cause you know what it is

'cause you buyed it."

if we are in spirit together

when we are not...  then

when we are together our

spirits are not...

we need no more.