#148

February 10, 2012 § 9 Comments

Do you remember
pouring tequila over poetry?
Margarita mix and ice softening
the blow of decades
that had licked the salt from wounds
of adolescent friendship
We sat cross-legged
on a carpet laced
with the paper-mache remains
of everything nine year olds
had believed to be true
(and maybe a hint
of things we’d known weren’t, too)
Gel pen recollections
of dreams
and loves
and puddle-depth
pre-teen
introspection
We burned the letters that night
figuratively, perhaps – I’m not sure
(you were the one with the lighter)
but it was more
than that
that went up in flames
We’d been chipping away
at the imaginary leg
of a tilted friendship triangle
and that night, those straws
of Jose Cuervo
broke
the spine of our self-penned
elementary
manifestos
our graphite scratches
a last thread tied, trying
to hold what adulthood needed to pry
apart
We had strings, strung
and life ropes wrapped
too tight and far too long
until that
final
wave
crashed.
I didn’t feel it snap
that night, but looking back
we’ve not spoken since
and I know
we’re fine with that.
Military battalions
and graduating classes
make a point to reconvene
each decade
and you and me? Well, we
are somewhere in between
So in ten years,
girl, meet me here
and we’ll compare the notes
we wrote of womanhood.
Thirty-three.
Older than we’d ever
dreamed that we would be
if you know what I mean…
and I know that you do –
because even when friendship withers
it doesn’t mean memories die too.

For more from the “Do You Remember” series, click any of the links below:
#124
#109
#107

Advertisements

Tagged: , , , , , , ,

§ 9 Responses to #148

  • “puddle depth pre-teen introspection” is a lovely sweet line. This is very rich with heart and imagery. Enjoyed it much.

  • pouring tequila over poetry?
    Margarita mix and ice softening
    the blow of decades
    that had licked the salt from wounds
    of adolescent friendship

    That start sets the tone, of the poignancy and the sharpness of nostalgia… is it ether-like, is it seen larger than life….? The images grow with each new perspective. But perhaps the lines I most liked, and connected with were these:

    “and puddle-depth
    pre-teen
    introspection”

    “because even when friendship withers
    it doesn’t mean memories die too.”

    Awesome.

  • I love everything about this poem 🙂

  • asoulwalker says:

    I would love to say something profound and insightful… but… I’ll say I love all of it instead. Thank you.

  • Michael says:

    Most excellent! I especially loved the lines “We burned the letters that night / figuratively, perhaps – I’m not sure / (you were the one with the lighter)”

    Thank you for sharing!

  • michael says:

    I think there’s a tiny loss in not experiencing this as a spoken piece… Then again, perhaps it’s just me. It’s heart-warming, though, even if adulthood prys things apart. There’s always time to rediscover, to reconnect.

    And there’s nothing like meeting again, an old poem or friend.

  • Thomas Davis says:

    Adulthood comes along, friendships fall along the way, and the past becomes wrapped up in a nostalgia that is so strong it almost slaps us with memories sometimes. This is a wonderful poem of remembering and regret that is fashioned with elegant language.

  • Fantastic poem, well done!
    David. L

  • Yella Ojrak says:

    I so love this poem. Excellent!

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

What’s this?

You are currently reading #148 at Authored Angioplasty.

meta

%d bloggers like this: