Friend! It's good to meet you.
I can see it in your eyes
straight away you're one of us.
Life's a bitch as everyone knows
but don't just stand there. I'll roll over
in the gutter here. You lie next to me.
You'll find the kerb pillows your head
and at road-level life's disappointments
leave you alone. We could philosophise together.
No? Stand if you like
but please don't stare at me
like that. It's not nice.
But I guess you're right, because I'm just a bum:
I prefer furtive, drowning glances
to a distinct and steady mirror.
I admire you, but cannot lift my face
or uncurl my spine
to walk in the world with you.
Thanks, that's good, though never enough –
your quiet touch and passing word.
A believer I once knew said,
"True friends meet again."
If so, I may be better, then.