The poet was nationally recognized for a lifetime's worth of writings.
The navy wanted volunteers,
so I went to rescue guys in Alaska,
we went far out, brought them back, you bet,
ropes, pack ice, axes, what have you.
My hands got frostbit, sliced like bacon.
I don’t have to feel to carry things but Doc
was giving up, on the toilet, and man
has a dignity, you’d think, and he squirmed
like a loose hose, an eel, so, sorry I yelled,
I didn’t know it was your first day standing.
Sammy digs you, says you looked funny,
not ha-ha but like a picture that’s crooked,
leaning on the wall the way you did.
“Help! Here!” I’m sorry, it cracked me up.
Doc was gone anyway. You wanted to run
and gather a posse for sure. Here! Here!
You’ll get your legs back someday, maybe.
That’s just me talking. I’d bet on it, though.
I call you my boy toy,
PW's Summer Guide 2015