by Ben White.
XIII
Your choices
And subsequent directions
Have made you
An imaginary figure –
A figment
Represented by
Absence –
But that’s all
I might have ever been
To you as well,
So in the voids
Of any relationship
It’s hard to tell.
I was merely a by-product
On your way to destruction –
So forgive me
If I don’t
Follow.
XX
Seattle is full of down-hards
Who walk Pioneer Square wanting most
To get out of there and back
To Alaska
To be left alone and let
The lower 48 do whatever
They have to do to race
With rats who depend on
Policies and diplomats to make life
Luxurious
With social services provided
And no way to hide it that
The land of plenty has many
Disenfranchised associates who have
A valid claim on absolutely
Nothing –
Not even a dream.
XXII
Ghosts stare from my mirror, and I see you smiling there
As all the images
Come reflecting back to be compared, but it’s only
A physical resemblance –
I could never act like you,
As different times, people, places, and events
Have influenced what is true,
And what is true for me
Has been lifted from your absence,
So all I can do
Is imagine,
And write letters.