you were drunk and
sad
you read the Post and
farted
you were lost but not yet gone
and strung out on the corner
  you sighed
             "Sure"  
                    and signed my copy of
                    Last House in America

"For Steve, 
            Keep Smiling
               Love
            Jack  Micheline"

from harlem to frisco
from mexico to soho
you said
" sure....that's a nice one."
you said  half hung
belly hanging large from popped buttons
grey hair
tough mouth
such softness in the lines
around the eyes
inside the book
that something in your face

you paint sometimes you said
but never write 
right now that's right
what use for goddamn words
or picture books
for that matter
or any.............(unfaithful goddamn words)

you know many people
die on trains
in cars
in planes
in bars
and some sit stoned 
cold on the corners
hanging in hung 
and out of........words
poor words
pouring from the corner of a truly
unsung voice

you asked if i knew Will
i said yes
you said he's a great guy
a dreamer and player of horses
for 20 years
dreams and plays the horses
dreams and never wins
and that was why you loved him you said
a dreamer
yes i said i met him on this very corner
he dreams you said 20 years dreaming and losing
oh i said
i don't know if i've ever dreamt
but i do know i've never played the horses

you coughed hard  got up slow
folded and tucked the paper 
under your arm
then walking away you half-turned and said
"my horse came in 2nd today"
looking absently through me
"GOOD" - i said naively - good
and with your back toward me
and your body tipping on a slight angle
your grinning words replied
"but i bet him to win."

oh
i said
oh

you were drunk
and sad
but maybe not unhappy