Wednesday, 10 October 2007

Don't Drink and Draw

He didn't want to marry her.
And so, what made him do it?
Through the door, he carried her.
Through the door, then through it.

Looked into her eyes
But couldn't see beyond his glasses.
Not be hers for life...
Two years of midnight passes.

So organized he was--his weekly lessons on the desk.
He looked a bit like Superman. We called him that in jest.
His parents were in Sweden--hadn't seen them for three years.
Stoic with his mannerisms--not a one for tears.

Our last drink--it made me think--it's only two o'clock.
He called the waiter over--"take out the vintage stock."
Called in sick to cancel class--don't make the people wait.
350 students in the lecture celebrate.

He said some things to me that day that sounded kind of final.
Is this a sign of...? No. That's not like Michael.
"You'll always do your art,"
Why's he talking like he's dead?
You'll always travel far.
So poetic what he said.

And then we switched to riddles for a while.
My pencil rests its fiddles from the pile.
There's a man with a machine---Niagara Falls.
That pops out duck-shaped hotcake balls

For tourists--sells them peanuts everyday.
I wish my life were simple just that way.
I'm not like my brother--he's at Saab.
I hanging off the world in this dumb job.

Not this never-ending ferris wheel
No karaoke circus so surreal.
Can't find the button--can't press stop.
The man's on break. I can't get off.

"Don't drink and draw," he said to insert a little humor.
Not at lunch--unusual--sickness is the rumor.
Still no sign of Michael at the party end of week.
Alison, stab ran to me. Her face, no need to speak.
As planned--to Riski's for the cake--our hearts are all deflatin'.
His mother calls,"Someone died, so we ain't celebratin'."

I made the tea without the bags.
Hot water for his parents.
Add a little sugar
To the words of disappearance.

You had to go. You couldn't stay.
Your friend, he died a sorry way.
Too tall to hang in hotel rooms.
He took some pills to kill the zoom.
Two months in Honolulu was the cure.
I watched the surfers burn the sorrow pure.

No comments: