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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required MAY NASH (1968) Henry, I’ve stocked in the beer you used to like— a half-dozen cold bottles just waiting for you! And the little tomatoes— the other things. Nights, I try to keep the lights on— I always say it is just for company. Truth is, I’m afraid of the dark — not a presence in it— the dark itself. And lonely? Yeah, I think about another man sometimes— or I might see someone I like —but it hardly seems worth it— all that work! Moments you kissed me rough — I met you head on, my blood up— “Your honey of the afternoon,” you said! When I’m out at a restaurant or eating somewhere, I look across the table, and often see you sitting there— and a thousand memories ago I hear your voice. The daytime afternoons are long, filled with shadows— a matter of finding something to do— twilight means an early supper, a television evening. Late-night I put out my hand— automatic— to an empty space in the bed, a cold place beside me— I dream think you just got up t’ pee— yeh, you’ll be back, just got up t’ go pee— JP “My mother told me once, my Uncle Bill’s wife didn’t like him to drink, so he kept his bottle under her sink. Every afternoon he came by after work & had a drink and they’d chat— memories, old times brother-sis talk— and one day she was waiting for him & suddenly remembered: he’d died the month before.” Its the waiting that’s bothersome.
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