Where

Paul and Anna put him in the guesthouse,
a bungalow in their backyard.
Paul said he could make all the noise he wanted.
Anna said he’d have to eat in their kitchen.
Bobby knew this must also be love.

Where else would he go? back to the place
where Connie loved to come . . .
Jim and Marge’s down the street . . .
Clark’s God knows where . . .
Dupree’s? Where was that?

He doubted Melindra would let him stay long
if he didn’t have her sleep here.
Paul and Anna wouldn’t care
if the lad and lassie gamboled in the backyard.
The dreaming was easy, what was the waking?

Out there you could see a circling of gulls.
It was far enough away you were immune
from the garbage smell.
Come up the hill on Forty-fifth and turn
toward the university, and there they were.

He would get a job. He would get a phone.
She would be here. He would be there.
He would pay Paul and Anna rent,
buy tables and chairs, and eat here,
love and sleep on the mattress on the floor.

He couldn’t help missing the sound
of lake waters lapping the underside
of where he lived with Cathleen once.
It would be lovely having Lovely there.
He wondered what it would cost.

(1 March 2012)

copyright 2012 by Floyce Alexander