A new year passed. My gay friend with the glass eye
received, just today, his insurance settlement.
And me. A complexity thwarting mine,
I’ve knuckled down to my bereavement.
God have mercy, how his gaze used to rove
each carpool to the vet, such trees, such calculations of sky,
and how a mind and body must yearn so for love.
The crash like a nuclear blast! Not the average guy.
Life isn’t fair. Me being a fag-hag-Buckeye
from corn-row, I suggested in goodwill a humble renga party
during which time he wrote about it (the glass eye)
and made me feel a gracious and forgiving host.
I’m sure it must suck (and I try not to look).
The stiffness in my spine keeps my tongue tied.
Such suffering. Such loss.
“Just a jamb in my printer!”
I laugh it off.