“The Dry Heat This Winter Has Put My Bouzouki Out Of Commission”

By Robert Archambeau

I kind of want that to be a one-line poem.
But then I couldn’t tell anyone about how you typed that,
and I read it, up on Facebook, and how I thought
no words sound more like you and less like anything that is not you
and then I thought to know your style is, I don’t know,
pretty intimate stuff, a (why not?) higher form of affection,
which made me uncomfortable.
Which is a thing that is more like me and less like anything that is
not me except for you.
So what I’m saying is this is how I’m saying “friend.”

For Mark Scroggins