XENITH

Friends
by Garth Pavell

The telephone rings like your orgasm
Used to fool my pen into thinking
Its blood vessel was in love
With the curve of your written name

But now I am a more advanced caveman
Indicative of my erections while driving the car
Or wading into traffic with a fisherman’s
Cold-blooded benevolence flipping off the sea

Bluetoothed, bathing your bright eyed apples
You say our clothes bring us closer
But I hear the pandemic of friendship’s
Uncooperative oath maturate your syllabic repose

Which is why I suppose I don’t mind
When I snag my finger on my coiled notebook
It bleeds in a fetal position, strangely comforted
By the water in your distant hands

***

Garth Pavell lives in Brooklyn, New York where he writes poems and songs and even has a couple of rickety novels under his belt. He is currently forming a folk rock jam band, which can be listened to in its embryonic stage at http://www.myspace.com/garthpavell.

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