Distant Friend

To have a friendship with a guy

you could blow enthusiastically

once a week seems to you

the height of intimacy

to which you may legitimately

aspire, as if by aiming low

you'll hit upon someone to love.

I don't think so,

and, when I say, "It doesn't work that way,"

a glaring like the sun

issues from your eyes. But you reply,

"Oh well, at least it'd be fun,"

meaning (politely) End Of Discussion.

You're right: I was presumptuous

to pretend to know the possibilities

for happiness, much less

for someone who has always known

he will always be alone.

Copyright World Poetry, Incorporated Mar/Apr 2004
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