I have four friends
sixteen acquaintances
one wife
two girlfriends
and a three legged mistress
in my fridge
is a six pack
there are twelve cubes in the ice box
and the whiskey is immeasurable
life
suspended in basic mathematics
is how much or how many
you can consume
in a lifetime
and if I knew more
maybe in a few others
but all the mathematics
is never enough
to fill that hole in my heart
the one that
is indiscriminate
there is no math there
just some faces
I can’t count how many
but they all look familiar in an unfamiliar way
like a torn down building
in old Delhi
and in those unfamiliar faces
there is one that looks like mine
an alien from twenty years ago
young, free and wild
in all unimaginable ways
imprinted
upon the immeasurable whiskey
without censure
and with pride
the one that
is the most intoxicating.
