I remember...
I wouldn’t let stupid Billy play ball with us
because he was fat and had big ears.
and when we formed our pretend rock group
with rubber-band stick guitars when we were five,
I didn’t want Billy to be in the band,
not even as the witless drummer,
because he was just too fat and stupid, even for a drummer.
Around the girls I would pretend not to know Billy
because if I did, they would think I was as dumb as he was.
Why, then, now that Billy is gone,
do I feel like I lost my only friend?
I hope the girls do not see me now,
mourning for stupid, fat, big-eared Billy
who was the best friend anyone could ever have.
Me. Mr. Beautiful. Handsome. Perfect.
Beautiful and handsome. Perfect and winsome.
What a fuck-up. What a screw-up.
Beautiful, handsome, perfect me. Still here.
Billy, I know you’re listening,
and somehow I think you always knew.
That’s why it never bothered you.
You knew you were my best friend.
and God: I know this may sound silly,
but I finally see why you made Billy.
Please tell me what you think
Comments
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Greatness, in humble words
with a very different approach. Loved the freshness of thought employed here. It is so sad that we 'judge' the Billys of the world, and too late remember what they meant to us. And each of us in turn have been that one - The one who was chosen last when choosing sides for basketball. Ah, school days - those horrid little moments when we discovered we could be klutzes, or Kings - depending on our own pompous moods. Rose.

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well, if only there were no mirrors...!
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Touching...
and different.

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thanks much, good combination...
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Brilliant evocation and reminder of the feelings and attitudes we wish we never had, at least with hindsight. I guess we've all known (or been) the Billy's of this world. A very human and honest poem.
Good work,
Bill

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yes, I think we've been on both sides in one situation or another...
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