interview with a hiatus

for S.D.H.

 

he is no longer a man

he is something in between

a working stiff writing his name

in the sand

 

on the phone he is this

i knew him before by a different name and

from time to time we still meet

to pass the dollar back

 

we are not uneducated but

slowing returning

the diplomas they gave us are stored away

and we sleep past noon every day

 

i claim to have deadlines

because lying suits me but

he knows just enough to keep me low

his quiet words land steady blows

 

when i move to leave he stops me

touches me, presses his lips to mine

i pull away in mild conviction

every day in the sand

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