no man is an island

first, halting myself with inadequacies,
i then overcame it all
with the knowledge that you loved words,
love words,
and wouldn’t mind if they were bad ones:

—-o—-oOo—-o—-

time stuttered as i saw the picture
over the mantelpiece

compulsion to write set like the fire
a desire to hear stories

to pour you another drink another
and another slowly

in the dim closing-time light
forever optimistic

a man you won’t meet every day.