Thursday, July 9, 2015

6870. MY CARMICHAEL FRIENDSHIP

MY CARMICHAEL FRIENDSHIP
He was the sailor with the cap, the friendship guy
I was always seeing, the one eating pretzels along the
wharf and just staring. I asked him what's up and he said
nothing. 'We make book by ourselves alone,' he finally 
spoke, 'and whatever passage comes through, the seas 
will take back from us eventually.' As if I understood,
I nodded, but could not find a word to say back.
-
I wanted to tell myself  -  'what else are you supposed to
do ? make things up so only as to have a conversation
made false and less delicious? ' I then I realized it was
all only a blaze within my head  -  I had heard nothing
but new words from an old-time champion of talk.

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