Panic

She was made poignant by her own errors.
J., friend and betrayer. She called me by
my sins, confessed in utter night. Each joint
an assignation with as much truth as either
of us might regard as possible. Those wind-up
evenings playing leonard cohen and willie nelson
while the kitty hid behind the cane sofa.

She will never hear those plaintive poems again,
Her greed and ego's struggle retrieved the lost self
& made Her captain then the wizards of acrimony
classic in the Marian night ships left clean but
empty in the Alps Has she been back? Unable
to find the hidden craft on that European escape
from poor old John. She also tried in California,
lost between Santa Cruz and Los Angeles. She
thought it was a six hour drive. All that grass.

She laughs
She angers me
She betrayed me
She bet on desire &
it betrayed her.
I took my words
She can't have them now
She laughs, desire not
a friend these days.