Iron my fingertips
against the crease of the seam,
and scrawl on the envelope
an ambiguous address.

When the last multi-hued
string of our friendship bracelet
frayed- peeled apart like uncoiled
copper wires-
Could have sworn I felt the wear
with every fruitless search;
you refuse to stay in one place.

They tell me you dream of Hawaii.
And a quick handed 200 dollars
Makes for easy deliberation.
I hope you’ll drop me a line
Before you take off for paradise.

Remember when we sat on the hills
and saw small brown children
throwing and catching,
And you said nothing was ever as beautiful
As the way the ball bounced.

You might have been high
But I thought it was deep all the same.
And I quoted John Steinbeck
(drank the poison, fell in the trap)
And the figures of Cannery Row-
(You are a dead ringer for Doc)

Believing someday I’ll see
The product of your effective
Boot-strap-pulled-up maneuver.
And I’ll wait here, while you
String shells on a thread,
knowing you are worth something.

After all-
Paradise doesn’t stay light
In the evening,
And homeless is homeless everywhere.
Regret is just as common, and
I know you can’t take another night
of waking with that gold-eyed tiger
on your stomach.