Shut the front door! What have we here?
Long-lost school chum whose number
we misplaced back in the Bush years.
Welcome. Come in. What’s the story?
Why now instead of soon after our last visit,
or never for that matter? Are we cool?
Absolutely. Unless you came in search
of money. Can’t do much for that.
Tell me what your trials and errors
did for you on the East Coast? No way
you’re in town for longer than a visit.
If I’d landed in New York, no one could
get me to move back to this backwater,
either. I recall our youth, breaking vice laws
together. But now we’re citizens. Pillars
of the community. We’re the angry Dads
waiting late in living rooms for our own
errant youngsters to return from diversions
and social experimentation. Do you say so
if you know they’ve been out drinking?
Do you keep mum, glad to see them safe?
Is it a true promotion, working as Authority
after starting as a Rebel? Old friend here
out to prove reincarnation of friendship
is both a thing and possible for us.
He’s on to being version three of himself,
knocked down twice but got up twice
and more resilient for his trouble. This man,
like a brother to me, like a brother who wanders
away and doesn’t make phone calls.
Glad you made it. Is this closure?
Are we picking up the thread? Brother
of another mother and father, saying we should
get the banned back together. Asking, hey,
how is your sister? Asking how did
I used to tolerate this town?