Just Listening

I'm only happy when I'm sad, she said.
When people say their glad,
I get mad because,
they used the word glad, she said, we laughed.
The things she said, I guess, 
wouldn't seem important.
If you asked if she knew Shakespeare, she'd say,
when I was born he was already dead.
She liked autobiographies because, she said,
they were books about history,
written by people who were there.
She loved the new testament,
because of what a mess it is, she said,
how great it was that Jesus gave,
gave such a big storytelling gig,
to his four buddies who couldn't write a lick.
That Jesus must have been a piss,
to hang out with, she said.

Important or not,
I didn't want to miss a word,
whatever she said,
I never waited to talk, with her,
I was happy to be,
just listening.
Copyright © | Year Posted 2007

Poem

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