Childhood Friends (poem)

After the snow slope
stuck all winter with Christmas
Lights, we have waited for your father
Whittle its soap cake
then ended whisk,
Her mother, their coffee
an area to a conclusion and lamps
Cubes in the snow with our feet.
Holding one side and the other
Layer sleeves dragged us down
the streets in our densely
Black clothes, history
Crystal swamps and death
By dusk every house,
on the ice of gold
Spitting, smoking, blue
Silence ponds, with the city
glowing behind the blind
White Hills and a little
Checking the snow in the stars.
They hummed as Blanche
Snow and spoke of Montreal
where a Francoise's could sing,
, the face of the man
In her blouse débouclée
and later to wine
on the chair.
I have always believed
Victoria, that it
be a way out.

They had shame on this House,
Discotheques round the excess flour,
Ribs of beef and white beans,
Checks and emergency services winter tours
, Which always ended in deer
rigid with the car rack,
Accordion breathing your uncle
down north, and what
She urged the stupidity
Michigan French.

Your mirror grew up surrounded
with photos of soldiers
, Your breasts
in their hands the keys
Blouses in your teeth,
It has the Silk
Acorns the completion of their training,
Jackets with embroidered dragon
in the Far East. You have
The closures, from
Bottles on their beds
their letters per city
Black, envelopes hair
their shaved skull.

I will do that, you said.
Flowers wrapped in car
in Montreal, a plan to repeal
Detroit, a bed of satin, an array
- Clean scents.
So, are in a container with ice
Catholic outside a dance hall
She took her necklaces
Fine in your hands chilled
Your age and lied in adulthood.

I then not from my own breast,
nor the letter Boot Camp
and if one of the men who
together to give you my mouth
In his own was nothing
Other than the venue of the music dance
Top the arms of ice trees.

I do not know where you are now,
You say that you have children, a trailer
Snow in the vicinity of our city,
and wife that you have a daughter
Return from the Far East broken
Pirates of the Holy Blood in the table
Night, where a bunch of white chips
from the edge of her knife.