separated at birth

you think you've got your illusions
wrapt up in your carbondale scene
all your breakers charged and
overloaded with alcohol and
your paranoia hat left
hanging at the front of the house
and its really only one room

but I am busy
traversing the gridlines
on this map just as
if I knew what I was doing
when I understood that this was
all shit some time ago
and I can add up your scorn
and reach in and even
if so many years pass
that I don't see your face
with a name anymore,
I will still know just
how much alike
we are

From 1977, imagining the faceless future. Very cynical about the act of writing ("this was all shit"), but at the end a recognizable point that is somehow actually true. Not that the fact that we are very alike was any actual help in carrying on a relationship, or even a friendship over the many years. Addressed to Alison Gaughan, who's photo (since removed) I found on an old hard drive and include in this post, for nostalgia sake and because I've been asked about images from this period in my life. I have almost none. These that I have found were sent to me as color xeroxes by Pat Smith the spring that Piper was born, 2003. I have asked Ross Hulvey for access to his photos from this time, but he ignores my letters. I have also asked John Ranyard for his photos, but I think John has other things on his mind these days. If anybody out there has any photos from the writing groups that you'd like to share, please email me at tosburn@msn.com. Thanks for the good thought.