some things unfold in polite rhyme.
he orders cheeseburgers: two
i say he was ten minutes late but he points out
he is three hours early
we politely share fries
there is a formal distance in this man
i probably knew in six other lives; maybe i was the one
to present the medal in a somber scene or collect a tax:
maybe i was the one who had to stand roughshod
while the parade passed by, with rushes for light
If you have any comments on this poem, Rosemarie Koch
would be pleased to hear from you.