you make me write my best poems:
wander, stop, start, wonder
maybe someday I’ll give them to you,
maybe today, maybe your birthday
tied in a silver paper package
or scrawled here on loose-leaf

hey pal, let’s be friends
I like your silly faces, I like your
poser-flip hair and the V on your forehead
marking you an avid fanatic
of Battlestar Galactica but you are
more, you are cooler
you are the commander
of the school of rock, coaxing from us
the ferocity/beauty that lives
untrumpeted in our music –
hey pal, let’s make music

alright pal, let’s be friends
let’s hug til our air is squeezed out
completely; a kiss or two never hurt anyone
did it? hey pal, let’s be friends –
let’s witch-dance in the moon;
I’ll salsa, meringue, or even rumba
in your honour.