led to us talking
and the other chick
wants to watch a movie maybe
one night after the baby's to bed
this is not a poem
these are short lines
a poem, says the schoolgirl of lore,
is that stuff in books which
doesn't quite reach the margins
this is like a poem like that
and also
it does not mean
but is
that's the end of the sentence, the is
it's a be in the poem i take it from
not an is but a be
my friend finally put her pants on so
we didn't get high or go to brunch
but she said that's some bullshit and i liked that
this guy lon, i see on the internet, doesn't believe in teaching math
cuz he believes in people learning it
i was thinking about his friend, the big guy in the overalls who
also sold stuff at the yard sale
wish i had talked to the guy some more
and to lon
it was hard to get away from my tables
i also keep thinking about the guy in the tank top
who gave me a dollar for the space heater i'd put in the FREE box
cuz i should have something for it, he said
i said thanks and aw shucks, or words to that effect, and
okay but he would have to take something else
and gave him the little clippy thing with
the cartoon frog on it. you'll find something
to do with it, i told him. and seconds later
he called my eyes back to him,
smiling above his beard, saying
hey, i found something already
he had clipped it to the shoulder strap
of his ribbed cotton tank and
was going to wear it there
and then i loved him
and he loved me
and we loved each other for a minute
caring not for 91 dollars and 47 cents
but for something else
even very sleepy
even worried, or anticipating the sadness
even not yet fully healed
tonight i could tell
by something that was
not prescience
tears were coming to someone
far away
or probably so, or
at least maybe
no probably
then yes
mark me well, said the wise old man
