For you, my friend,
you went through it
and out her other side
but you were there
abaft the barnacled bottoms of old books,
sleek traffic, sand in your Nikes
everything was yours. She drove.
No need for caution, kept your thoughts
you always do,
was like a crucifix
on the wall over somebody’s bed.
What does that mean?
you always know,
just stop thinking
and start talking.