Transfer #1 from Blogspot

*I'm currently in the process of transferring some posts from my old blog to here – once this process is complete I'll begin with new posts*  
Entry for August 28, 2005


Below is the first poem I've written as an adult. I worked on it during a series of particularly awful Monday evening seminars this spring.  I am not a poet, but sometimes it's good to challenge yourself.  For me, it always proves difficult to say what I mean with anything resembling brevity.

"Call me Paul." He said.

And I did, scared to mangle

the intricate Arabic syllables

that created his name.

Through chrome-colored mornings

we rode the bus together.

He told me about his father's bank,

swathed in sunlight somewhere East.

"This is Paul." He said, calling

me on the phone one night.

In the background I heard

beer-soaked laughter and

he admitted the call was a dare.

I thought about nutmeg skin, black hair

and the silver rings he always wore.

"Do you like Julia Roberts?" He asked

one morning.

The rain smeared against the window and he traced

zigzags in the steam.

"You remind me a bit of her;

the way you laugh, it's nice."

Just once I let his cheek brush mine

and for a moment linger there.

I shut my eyes.

I imagined a whole life.

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