We played basketball
in my driveway
Drayton Plains
and talked about
LAND OF THE GIANTS.
*
But we moved to Rochester.
*
I picked up the student directory
on the dresser below the wall phone.
Found you in Hubbard Hall.
Called, you invited me over.
We sat in your dorm room
on the 12th floor
hadn’t seen you since we were 14.
Now we’re 17.
He was always 2 inches taller,
still was.
One of his incisors turns slightly out
giving his upper lip a curl
I always liked.
*
After that
38 years.
2.
Though you were taller
I usually beat you one-on-one.
Now I wonder if you let me.
There was a lot of bumping.
*
Why did we not see each other again
at State
after that day
our freshman year?
*
Last I heard
Mark was in Philadelphia.
I found his friend Greg
but he won’t give me Mark’s information.
It must be Mark said no.
*
We all have our no list.
*
Hey Mark
I hope you woke up this morning
thinking of us playing hoop at 14.
I think you did.
*
Arkansas swamp
ivory-billed.
*
There’s no getting out
transcended.
Craig Cotter was born in 1960 in New York, grew-up in Michigan, and has lived in California since 1986. His poems have appeared in hundreds of journals internationally. Books include The Aroma of Toast, Chopstix Numbers, and After Lunch with Frank O’Hara. www.craigcotter.com
–for Mark Cooper
