He met me at the corner
under the Def. Col. bridge
drunk at the time
ranting about a fridge
too disoriented to drop him home
I took him to mine
and we made love to a couple
of pornos online
side by side, obnoxious and naked
we fell asleep with our legs entwined
horrors of the night awoke
the next morning by my side
in filthy underpants
and a postal receipt in his hands
his name on it, in untidy columns
the consignor and the consignee
a parcel by him to himself
of breathable air, and home
the things we do, to not feel alone
I loaded him in my car
and dropped him under the bridge
hoping the postman would find him
and his long lost fridge.
