when shaky strangers tell me things

the stupid mustache was a test

but   was it for me

                or for them

reaction was preferred

the honest or the polite

   the careful tweeners

who took a long time

                               to stare

trying to figure out

how much they thought   i’d care

if they told   the truth

whatever that is

preksha laughed

 in that way

the one that says

  what are you doing

 then she said ‘what are you doing’

in the parking lot at bill’s new place

    still spent most of her time

staring

     at me

then i almost said the right thing

george said it was nice to meet me

even though i’ve been twice to his home

and heard his laugh

             big and fat

over the whole of his backyard

    

norman only saw a picture

until late on wednesday evening

before the day he was leaving

which was two days before i was leaving

and neither of us had packed a thing

at least most of my clothes

 were clean

when we met at the place we always met

and the meal was quick

we were done with it

but smiles

    were wide

and even if i couldn’t feel them

all the way inside

the girls still said ‘hi’

like they want you to

    stay

or to come back

 again

some other day

    the ponytail let loose a laugh

the ponytail always laughs

at me

      it seems

but that’s a large part

of himandme

     what i’m looking for

better best to

be ignored

jjb gave two thumbs up

for keeping it til chicago

            even though he couldn’t wouldn’t or shouldn’t  go

    his support was known

which was about as much as could be expected

 since some things changed

waters said it was cowboy-ish

            i said

you’re  cowboy-ish

                   she neglected to reply

but i sensed no conflict

jarral took it all in stride

she did that

 most of the time

  and if cool is a lion

that girl is a pride

we need to get her back

stateside

                        aight
        aight

her friend rj had the curly hair

but she pulled me straight

 by the ear

on hiphop night

in the old neighborhood

where the sweet keeley was last seen

at broken midnight

when the big man

sulked enough

to get it stolen

with housecat hiss

of touch and wah

          a liar’s bliss

he wallowed

in

        it

and this says nothing of

        maccallister

who waited til she knew

then let both barrels go

my dream is still that she’ll whisper

‘close the door

    and tell me secrets

that aren’t true

           anymore’

still   curious looks were

preferable to invisibility

which    if actual

would have been useful

but

in reality

only served to underscore

          the very fear i can’t ignore

that there’s no such thing as the hooker oak tree

         and happiness is just a dream

when shaky strangers tell me things

Drawing by Woody Guthrie