Pluralities

Ralph Adamo

I hate that you are on the other side this evening 

If I go somewhere to cry for you how will I stop 

I hope this finds you well. It's been too long, 

 I typed when you were already gone. 

Listening to you talk 

 over there is like 

 listening to water 

I compose 

 you are here 

 music breaking whitely 

 one track crossing over another 

 to reach disaster 

Shooed from the blues I stand 

 against one breeze 

 and feel the summer's cascade 

 buggy and wet in my blood 

I a sunken man with an old nose and long eyes

 wind-shredded 

 used to the way little becomes less 

 unprepared for bounty 

 whittling sorrow down to its toothsome size 

       **** 

The little house of my dead first wife 

 blows me a kiss as I go past 

 on wheels, the sidewalk cracks 

 one more lame joke to boot, and 

 then I am on the other side, again.