My Friend (one)

What goes on, off, starting time out in the
morning, waiting, it's
afternoon, we're watching shadows and
sunlight paint the walls and
there ain't enough coffee
or medicine in the world to
bring me back...

spring day,
talking over breakfast at
Don Deli, then over
a coffee, then over
another, sun
vaishing then re-appearing behind
skyscrapers and apartment
blocks, we're talking
down Broadway, we're
talking sitting in my
chairs, sun of
afternoon, blue
spring of
sky, smoke
sliding across the room like
soundless words,

both of us brimming with caffeine and
excitement, sensing
the raw future, it was
bigger than us,
and scary, and we
talked into it without
stopping
for breath surrounded by
creeping sunlight, the
stretch of 17 plants the
sleep of 2 cats--

waiting for Josey to call,
so we could
go watch a movie
about Townes van Zandt.