HIS E-MAIL FROM SOMEWHERE
You read me lines before you left.
Love tames all that is wild, you said.
I know I am finally done with running,
but I have no where to go. I can’t find you.
On the G-mail, Yahoo, what have you,
I risk being exposed as a scam scumbug.
I, too, am ill, and I have nothing to leave
except palpable feelings of your touch.
I have become wealthy with these tender
Not pounds nor guineas, but all this gentle
currency that has long lost its value: Love,
love for the wild heart and the wild times.
—Albert B. Casuga