by Edwin Torres

was an old friend
old old friend
thought weren't - we that is
friends anymore
every fall
picked up by 2
planets - perfect
planets - revolv
ing ‘round me - rough
rough gravity - where fire
was glow and ground
had purpose
too many tales in the pedestal
foot - too many friends
who leave me - to fall
need to find
my windowless ground - coarse
opium - opiate cookie

Pub. May 2001