I spoke with an old
friend today on Face,
while chasing the baby
through a church
parking lot.
The friend on Face
was shooting hoops
on an empty indoor
basketball court.
He told me he was
in Texas because
the National Guard
needed him to mold
cadets into leaders,
but that his wife
was still in Northern
California with
the baby they adopted
from when they were
just guardians.
The baby tackled
the steps at back
and was picking up
speed, you should
have seen him
coordinate knees
to elbows and gallop
up them like a spider-
horse-monkey-jockey.
All that distance,
all those years, dis-
appeared from the cache
of this current I-don't-
know as we sat there
trying to make light
of old trophies,
lauding old colleagues,
recalling the work
only we clearly cared about.
Today I did Face
with an old friend,
a friend I used to
teach in the jail with
and the baby conquered
steps in a church parking
lot with great acoustics.
Spicaresque:
A Spanglish blog dedicated to the works, ruminations, and mongrel pyrotechnics of Yago S. Cura, an Argentine-American poet, translator, publisher & futbol cretin. Yago publishes Hinchas de Poesia, an online literary journal, & is the sole proprietor of Hinchas Press.
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