Dedicated

The way I remember it,I caught beautyLike a flu,

Via handshake or high fiveOr a thank-you-For-your-service

Between the guys at the V.A.The one who lurchedToward me, touching

Me, saying:You like poetry,More vision than question.

The one who said,Overhearing me correctMy Korean conflict-era dad:

Go easy, you won't have himLong. Or the oneWho said: You watch

Him like a hawk;Just let him go.In the molecular

Biology lab, each tankFull of impossiblySmall fish bears

A sign that says: You are responsibleFor your own deads.Plural. Sure.

The older I get, the moreI am reminded of songDedications on the radio.

I called Cousin BrucieTo send out "I've Got You,Babe" to my parents

On their wedding anniversary.When he played them"Gypsies, Tramps, and Thieves,"

Bob and Mary AnneWere understandably confused,But appreciative nonetheless.

I myself haveHad three partnersIn my lifetime,

And what I still love best aboutTwo of themIs how I never had to explain

That joke. There was all thatTime listeningTo radio or TV,

TV turned internet.I wish I couldDedicate those spent hours

Now to my mom,So she could come back awhile.She wouldn't have to know

She was dead,Like we didn't know thenHow much time was passing.

I would playWith her hair like I used to,And tell her stories until

She began to doze offLike she used to,Waking only to say:

I didn't ever know youLoved me, Kath. You neverWanted affection from us, Kath.

Just like she used to.The wrong song, somehowThe right song, playing on and on,

Like a perfect virus.