unlikely obit to see;
saw that you died, left your wife behind,
our classmate,
mismatched years

maybe it’s the drugs I was on that make it hazy
or the fear of forgetting
or remembering
the lust I had
for the concept of you,
the envy of you being
what I wanted to seem

mysterious, ambigiously straight but
comfortable enough to listen
to some youngster flirt–
maybe you liked the attention,
a deistic god?
religion was your major after all

was it you? in my backups
I can’t find the conversations
that we had somewhere
about nothing

frenetic lagan, to keep me from sinking

anyway, you’re gone
I can’t ask you how we were
what, my obviously subtle self
appeared to you as
or why you bothered to look

she looks happy
in the wedding photo
that’s public and you look
like you