bigger (12/17/82)
An Acquaintance of Mine
I want to be called Earl, and wipe grease from
my hands in some sandy, gas station desert.
Or sell life insurance in a flatland
town of "6,000 friendly people" who're
likely to think Carter's still in office.
Or maybe teach English and coach another
team in Vermont, where high school students would
call me Mr. Meyer and would not have heard
all the bad words that I have.
(Or somehow
think of two more lines for this thing
that would make it an anonymous
sonnet.)
Or anything, fill in the blank,
to keep me from writing things colored by
knowing I'm not just someone that you once met.