IBPC (Online) June 2010
(Third Place, May Competition. Judged by Fiona Sampson)
Sometimes there was wine at night
but there was never any money.
I don’t remember much but coffee,
hash on the roof at midnight
and one time drunk on Harry’s street
dancing in the rain. We pasted up
the underground news. They paid us
with rolling papers, incense,
sacks of welfare rice.
What became of you after that,
after Janicelli’s peyote wedding
and our own sad abortive love affair,
my sudden disappearance?
You looked well some years ago
-it was February, I think-
and you still look good to me now
though I must admit it here:
I can’t always recall your face.