In the paper this morning,
not the Times
but the trashy paper
that I pretend I'm too smart to read,
was an article
about a boy.
He went to Japan
against his mama's wishes
and went to Thailand
against his mama's worries
and got swallowed up by
the Indian Ocean.

My brother's best friend was there
watched the whole thing
like it was a show just for him
staying at a fine hotel
and seeing a live natural disaster
play out as he ate his
continental breakfast on the porch.

My brother's best friend was fine
but the boy is not,
he hasn't called his mama
and he isn't going to.

I knew him, once,
for a day.
He came to a party I threw
on the beach
walked in with three friends
while I was sprawled out on the floor.

I kissed him by the fireplace
because he was there
and I stole his virginity
because of the vodka
and because I felt like it
and because I thought he needed it.

I only saw him one other time
his back
at an outdoor festival
holding hands with a blonde
I assumed to be his girlfriend.
And now the big little joke
for me and my best friend
was eaten by a tidal wave.

12/28/04