today you wore a shirt
that i remembered from the days when we were
young
you were a pimp and i
a pimpernell
racking up trust in the yellow eyes
of boys in jeans
last night at the symphony
i thought of just that and just that
the girls thought you had the greenest eyes
that matched your shirt
your mother and i used to sit on the porch
she would let me drink her lemonade
and we talked about what you would do
and the rebellion that you were
you were
ripped jeans and a bust of muscles
a smile curt and mean and hard and
sweet as a cartoon
we drink cappucino now
and i don't think
you've called your mother for a while
a burst of:
"not this weekend/i do what i can/
theres not a chance/ i'm late for a meeting"
but darling
we are all late for a meeting