Friday, November 04, 2016

Major Draft of Something Not Sorted Out

For a Friend

I would feel bad for you, but I can't,
not just because you'd hate me for it,
but because I'm still unable to reconcile
the man in the video
with the man in the chat
with the man on the phone
with the man I've never met.
Apparently, I'm having
a hard time pulling it together.

I only get a (non) touch of you,
here and there, a virtual pat on the back
(you're much more well behaved than I am),
and a baby-sized biteful of insight.
This is how you describe yourself:
18 in the head, 500 in the body, crazy all around.
You've never sounded crazy to me.

I offered you a transplant the other night -
go ahead and have a kidney. My liver, though,
I don't believe I can do without. There's only one,
and I think I might need it,
if it's all the same with you. Besides,
I don't think it's in very good shape.
Too many meds, too many years, too much living.
But I'm not complaining.

You see, I told you once you were my fantasy man,
a fascinating enigma, waiting to be solved.
I wanted to play detective (among other things),
but another half wanted a reality check.
It makes life easier, being grounded.
Leave things to me and god knows where you'll end up.

Now I'm sitting here in my usual thinking-about-you mode,
two 7-11 Big Gulp cups on my desk,
one with an inch of sugar-free fruit punch,
the other brown-stained from soda.
I've not had enough sleep, and tonight will be no different.
You used to stay up longer than me,
but lately you take better care of yourself.
Now who's the crazy one?

In the morning (rather, later today) I'll get up,
pour myself some diet cola, pop some pills,
check my email, my Facebook, my messages,
wonder if you saw this poem. I'll detangle my hair,
brush on mascara, dress like I know what I'm doing,
and drive off to Panera Bread for a meeting.
I don't eat the carbs there, they're bad for me,
my contribution to my health
for the sake of your kidney.

Maybe I'll get a client. Maybe I'll just get a headache.
Maybe I'll get you something, too,
something better than you have right now.
Maybe you can tell me what that is besides body parts,
'cuz I'll be damned if I know.
You're always so fucking cheerful.  


copyright 2016
Katherine Gotthardt

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