Poems For "Barry"—The Fourth Set

How is it that every
Five minutes or so Someone
New reminds me in
Instances that literary
Merit is not a prerequisite
To have an American lover?
I have not. A lover, I
Mean, tho' if life places him
Before me and it will not.
I remind myself. Bill Ford
And a commercial announcer
Are going over American
Traditions. I should
God, I miss Erich and
Next year I shall miss
Jason and I hate
Mourning for Something
Before it is even
Gone. My American lover:
Still tho'! I leap to see him Greek
Or Italian, anything to
Keep in tune with my
Own Teutonic belief Structure.
I watch him Sometimes.
It always may be enough it
Always was

Well the very best Thing
About you is you do not
Prompt me to turn anymore
Right than I already
I tend to overanalyze
Everything. That is
Good about you. You are
Good: in that way, I mean.
Once I may time and
Time back recall what
Occurred in Rome, but it
Is not Nuremburg
~ Oh Lord, I miss Erich ~
you reached up and as
I walked past Something
Fell and it was not me:
nor was it you. All the
Better that what fell in
Rome was not myself
Nor you.
Oh, it perhaps may be
Best for me that you are
So. But either way you
Smile at him, at that Other…you
Know and I continue
Missing Someone.
~ Rome ~