A VISIT TO YOUR MYSPACE PAGE

For Essra


Last night, I listened
To your song
About your father.
It made me smile
Sadly.

“He was always mad as hell,” you said.
I remember.
You mentioned
How handsome he was.
I remember that, too:

Dark skin
Dark hair
Dark eyes
Dark spirit --
But fiery, always
Still burning.

He told me once
That war
Was natural,
Just Nature’s way
To shave off
Excess population.
I told him I thought
That’s why some people
Were gay.
He huffed
And shrugged that off.

He always had to be right.
He had that in common
With you; that,
And a charm
That doggedly disarms
All but affection,
Even when a rough edge
Cuts.
Your philosophy, of course,
Is just the opposite of his.


I noticed that I was
High on your friends list,
Though I haven’t been in touch
In much too long,
And I was moved.

How often I forget
What is important
To attend
To what is
Merely pressing.

The passing of my own father
Was one of many things
I thought might change that.

Then, I blinked;
Years had gone by.


-- © 2010 by Jack Veasey

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