I Apologize to Mickey Hewitt

I just wanted to say
how sorry I am about
the way I acted
I know I embarrassed everyone
you, Arly, Chuck, Joe Beck
Maxwell especially
though he never let on
you had something I wanted
that door kept slamming shut
for those meetings I
didn’t go to
about how to excavate
this damn tailrace!
and I’d never met someone
who once was a prize fighter
let alone one who’d been ranked
Number Five in Ring Magazine
most of what I learned
came from school
I would have liked my initials
scratched on the spillway
no, I’m not
the plane ride home?
about five hours
I’ll think about it longer than that
and I do wish you all well
I just wish
well, you know
one thing, though
I did a little looking around
and never found your name
or any mention of you
In Ring
sorry Mick but
they never heard of you

Breath

I can feel it coming
the last one
the lungs tip it off
coughing
pushing that last bit of
atmosphere up up and away
clattering like old pipes or
a worn-out muffler
trying to exhale me
there will be a chest heave
with my number on it
I peek out
all is calm
except for a figure
I’ve never seen before
a candle-shaped tall wispy fellow
stretching out his hand
and saying something
I dive back down deep in the
cavity where breathing starts
I don’t want anything spirit-like
reaching out for my hand
I want a bowl of Wheaties or something
but the lungs insist
give me a nudge
I pop up and look again
again that outstretched hand
again something I almost hear
and behind him hundreds more like him
a multitude
smiling, speaking with their eyes
eyes not sad
reluctantly I go up the windpipe
and face them
thousands crowded together
standing on tippy-toes
pushing at each other to get a look
and hearing their crepuscular eyes
welcome me coming in
from the boondocks

Broad Becomes Gentilly

Broad becomes Gentilly
Gentilly becomes Chef Menteur
you take it way past Luzianne
the Intracostal
Paris Road
and then Michoud
in a long apartment row
is a girl who waits for you
her hair is long
she wears a Madras bathing suit
you know each hook behind her bra
how easily they come undone
this is not what you had counted on
when you flew here from out of town
sometimes she cries and clings to you
your shoulder’s wet
you regret
the entanglements of one so true
Chef Menteur becomes Gentilly
Gentilly merges into Broad
Broad runs into Airline Highway
a plane is here
that takes you there
some place new
where blocks are square
the streets are straight
none are named Terpsichore
no clasps, no loops
no hooks, no snaps
no buildings low like bungaloes
no determined girl who waits
to cling to you
and make you feel
that somehow you must pay her back
so here you are
a year goes by
with no one near
no one here to hear you sigh
this is not what you once thought
where Broad became Gentilly
and you became a cul-de-sac

Learn more about Paul by clicking on his bio: https://thievingmagpie.org/paul-smith-bio-4/