the man and the myth

"you look like layne staley"

he said, snickering
the last time we saw each other
at the danvers barnes and
nobles we spent half
our college careers

he sat down with old man
ass and old man arms and
i was shocked at how he
already looked, well, old

he told me of the many
degrees he'd obtained
since last we met

and i learned how the
fastest beer drinker i knew
hadn't touched a drop
since his wedding night

how he'd gone from old maiden
to maranatha

how the best
short story writer
in the gordon college
class of 2001
hadn't written a word
in years

his wife called three
times during our half hour
coffee

something about the plunger
and the toilet and how it
couldn't wait

he said he'd live vicarious
through me,
but he really had to go

his phone rang again
he sighed
answered
apologized

and left

then back
a minute later
to grab the coffee
he'd forgotten
accompanied by a joke
something about
if i ever get into
trouble of a serious nature
he'd help to get me out

but it was pretty obvious
the only one who needed
help at our table

was him