refresh my memory.
Did you used to read at Cornelia Street?
across from the oysters
in the basement with bad blow,
low ceilings and plenty of psychopaths.
I think I remember you.
you told me to shush
when I was yelling about the Yankees
and folk music to simultaneous bartenders.
Then we held hands in silence,
down an alley of our hearts.
if I remember correctly,
you disappeared
to have a baby out of wedlock
and dread your hair
in North Carolina.
I liked your poems
and your spirit
and making out with you in the bathroom
of Max Fish.
what have you been up to
and why now and why Instagram?
I'm doing well.
Still lost and never sleeping,
and I have written books
about both.
You may like them.
Sure, I will grab
a coffee with you next week,
but don't get any ideas;
I'm taking a break from love these days,
but we can fool around.