Now the Poet D Has Left Us

Rode
his bicycle
to my 30th

birthday fest exactly
thirty-six
years

shrill
cake flames
grad students poets

gay neighbors plus
spies in
peacetime

watching
artists for
lack of anything

else to do
as if
we

knew
beyond blank
verse or Allen

something else contagious
once I
told

one
of them
what I knew

by accident he
broke no
sweat

now
a little
older I forget

what I said
that budged
him

to
alert the
others of it

situation specificity
derails instinctive
innocence

frames
discard what
is beyond them

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