e. e.

by Marcia F. Brown

i. i.   think   u.u. would have loved
            this texting     tweeting
like a broken bird     scattering

the chaff   (what nooneneedstoknow —
mothers/fathers/ loves gone riding)

cramming     nospaces        your gorgeous stuff:
            silver–frosted–cherries     sex        rooms
love has left empty   (140 characters would be a surfeit)

                               God, those handsome
women! poets    brilliant
men    birthing
           bohemia in Greenwich Village    soused
in the morningbath    soused
           walking–Washington–Square & soused
at–the–club

                               &why wouldn’t they be\
having survived that first big one?   u.u.
           by a fluke: rucked in nightly    bread&water
inthebrig for bad behavior   mustard
gas& misery   away away         punishment
           your savior

           oh but wouldn’t u.u. & your pals
have loved to dance with wordgames
           till the balloonman whistles
                                            far and wee

till WAY TO GO:     instant
           hemorrhage in the lively brain     thud
while washing up from splitting wood
           headed down to supper with lovely Marion     anyone

old and sick   would be green
           for such an ending

                                but what i want to know
is what are u     wordstruck boy
                                                    creating now?