Wednesday, June 19, 2013


I met Elizabeth
during my flirtation with English Literature in 1963.
Another lesbian,
pretty blonde with
soft hands and beautiful legs.
I used to pick up Elizabeth
at the counselling center
where she was trying to be cured.
When the university found her out
they hinged expulsion on her success.

I fell passionately
in love with Elizabeth
with all my post adolescent yearning,
the feel and the look of her.
She allowed me her company
and the freedom to dream.

Her father owned an
automobile dealership in Baltimore.
Well-to-do. I could never meet their expectations.
Part of a disguise for her parents,
she knew I wasn't very good at it.

I followed Elizabeth
doggedly and drove her
where she wanted to go.
When she looked for a job
after she left college,
I drove her from office to office.

An editorial job in a small business magazine,
I was glad when she came out beaming.
Elizabeth had been interviewed by love,
She and the matronly magazine owner
immediately set up housekeeping together.

I could have been a friend to both but I melted.
Elizabeth never wrote me letters.


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