I’m writing poetry/
@ the local Library/
Really!/
Care to meet me?
This may be/
one of those kismetish times/
(and I’ll end my rhymes).

This was an improv poem I made up and recorded while driving away from a liberal friend’s house, after she declared “I can’t get over that.”

Interestingly,/
the ones who are the most liberal,/
always seem to be/
the ones who can’t forget at all./

But they hold your feet to the fire/
for events that transpired/
years before you met./
They can’t seem to forget … /

nor forgive./
What a way to live.

[She said]:
You might be rather witty
You could be lots of fun
But if we don’t share chemistry
I’ll still be on the run

I do not doubt
that your rhyme is true.
We should find out
for both me and you.

Then you must have time
to make up a rhyme
asking for coffee or tea
so you can finally meet me

You said you’d be back
after the Easter break
(if I haven’t
made a horrific mistake),
and that you’d contact me then
to let me know when
you were back in town
and up for hangin’ around.
So I’m waiting.
Antici . . . pating.