Inbox Eudora Pro v2.2 18:01

On the silky cotton paper 
which forced me to recall
your allusion to endless drives 

through the desert, i closed the letter
i was writing with an ambiguous
phrase, discussing how

involved an undertaking a letter to you 
actually was. And you will understand
how easily i've forgotten

where i once was,
driving endlessly through
a white and silky desert.

From where do these roads run?
you always ask peculiarly,
contrariness being chiefly

of your nature. The scent of 
vinyl and long chain monomers 
betrayed your recent 

journey in a new car.
I've hardly seen your 
face the way i remember,

and i've hardly said a thing
in the letter, save the obligatory
reference to your being difficult

to be a friend to. 
But i christened you my brother
in calling myself yours.


Timothy A. Clark
1997