Poem

Instant coffee with slightly sour cream
in it, and a phone call to the beyond
which doesn't seem to be coming any nearer.
"Ah daddy, I wanna stay drunk many days"
on the poetry of a new friend
my life held precariously in the seeing
hands of the others, their and my impossibilities.
Is this love, now that the first love
has finally died, where there were no impossibilities?


Frank O'Hara