Mennonite Poetry Home | Robert Martens

 

 

harold/grammatically

1. the last time i saw harold
he sat knock-kneed in a coffee
shop eating white toast & jam.
harold was one size too large for
the coffee shop. the last time i saw
harold he was diabetic, he sat in a
coffee shop eating white toast & jam.
what the hell are you doing harold,
i said, his complexion stretchy as
old bubble gum, his eyes
thirsty puddles in our valley of
infinite rain, haven't you seen a
doctor yet what the hell, i said,
& his hair sweated decency, not
today, bob, he said, not today, &
our conversation ended with a comma

2.
the last time i talked with harold
he said hello like the taxman had
bugged the line. harold's voice was
one note too high for the telephone. the
last time i talked with harold he was
diabetic, he said hello like the taxman
& policeman & bankman wanted to edit
his brain, harold, i said, i'm
concerned you're not seeing a doctor,
and harold's voice rose higher, broke
the punctuation of healthy advice, bob,
he yelled, no more, i won't hear
any more, & the friendly currents of
disorder from his to mine, & we
talked, & it didn't matter, our
conversation ended in a glory of periods

3.
harold died, alone, at night,
suddenly, between parentheses

© Robert Martens

 

 

   

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