Let me school you a little about friendship
by Stan Faryna
My dear friend walked home along the river’s edge.
Charly walked among saw-toothed crocodiles
(their father is the king of pride and perdition;
they go to, fro, up and down until judgment day)
because the road took her six more miles to get home.
We buried my friend today – what was left of her
because I wouldn’t, couldn’t wait fifteen minutes
and take her home by my car, every Friday night.
Had places to go and things to do, Friday night!
I wept bitter tears for my friend, Sunday morning.
irregardless of her young-un’s want for dinner
I told her, what they need’s a little respect
and me, I made my own food since I’s twelve years old.
None made a better rhubarb pie than Charly made.
social service was herding up her kids with a hurry.
Couldn’t stop. Fifteen minutes late for church dinner.
20 February 2015