doom and siesta time
my friend is worried about dying
he lives in Frisco
I live in L.A.
he goes to the gym and
works with the iron and hits
the big bag.
old age diminishes him.
he can’t drink because of
his liver.
he can do
50 pushups.
he writes me
letters
telling me
that I’m the only one
who listens to him.
sure, Hal, I answer him
on a postcard.
but I don’t want to pay
all those gym fees.
I go to bed
with a liverwurst and
onion sandwich at
one p.m.
after I eat I
nap
with the helicopters
and vultures
circling over my
sagging mattress.
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