Jeremy

My brother called me on Saturday night
from Colorado, driving down an old country road
with Jose' and Jack riding alongside him
in his dusty, red Ford Ranger truck.
It had been three months since he had last called,
telling me about another one of his drunken
rendevous' with high school girls that think
he's different from all the other males that only
wants them for their nieveness and a simple
saying of the word 'yes' to fulfill his
obsession with selfishness.
For the 21 years I've known my older brother,
the only vivid memories of talks I remember with him
involved nights of debauchery
with girls that I graduated with, and the one time
he wanted me to see him the night before
I left for summer camp, but instead of his face,
his nose against a mirror snorting up freshly cut cocaine
with the plastic casing of a Bic ink pen
was the only thing my eyes saw.
But this night was added to those memories
I wish I could exchange for anything else.
After nearly five minutes of pointless
talk of drug-induced idiocy,
he ended the conversation with 'I love you, bro,'
and the only thing that was able to escape
my mouth were three short words:
'See ya, man.'