poems by request, #1

i had dinner with anthony tonight, in bedford, near lexington…a little italian joint in a strip mall.

he’s been ok. alive. not great but in what we call the cancer “clearing in the woods”. still surrounded by forest, but uncertain as to where the next battle is. it’s been hard. long. annoying. but he’s alive, and able to go out to eat, which is what we did.

there was a girl down the bar from us. she was eating her dinner alone and writing in a book. we saw her. after we paid the check, anthony went to the bathroom and i approached her.

what are you writing?

a novel.

in longhand, in a loose-leaf three-ring notebook, with ballpoint pen.

we wished her luck…

…and drove home. i dropped Anthony off at the house. as i was walking down the stairs of our final goodbye, he chuckled “let us walk through half-deserted streets”.


the drive home was about 30 minutes. as i pulled down the gravely hill from his house, i pulled up the love song on my phone, as read by t.s. elliot, and let it play into my ear on the drive. and then again.

i got home and asked on twitter for poems, requests. it felt like the right time.

someone requested robert frost.

none more perfect.

this one was pilfered and plundered for the song “astronaut” on “who killed amanda paler” (more here).

here you go.

if you tune into twitter i’ll probably do it again. use the hashtag #PoemsByRequest.
or leave requests in the comments below. i got a shit-ton of requests for Sylvia Plath and “the jabberwocky”.

depression and nonsense, comin’ right up.

neil, in the kitchen, suggested i read william mcgonagall. the LONG-STANDiNG undisputed worst poet of all time. the knives are drawn.

i love you


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