Archive for November, 1978

1978-11-13 To Dennis Gallagher

Monday, November 13th, 1978
                        To Dennis Gallagher
                  "Is he really gone?", she asked,
                  wondering if that was really the
                  question.
                  "No, I'm here.", he said,
                  though he knew he was elsewhere.
                  "I can't find you!"
                  She was getting worried and upset.
                  But she held onto herself.
                  "Where did you go?", she asked,
                  knowing she wouldn't like the
                  ANSWER.
                  "Nowhere.", he said,
                  thinking a lie would cover up.
                  "I don't believe you!"
                  she went away knowing that
                  was the best and only move.
                  She didn't know, but it didn't
                  MATTER.
                  She still cared and loved.
                  He lied, but it didn't make a
                  DIFFERENCE
                  He still loved and cared.
                              Helen O'flarerty
                              Nov 13, 78

— Copyright 1965-2008 by Dennis Gallagher —

1978-11-14

Tuesday, November 14th, 1978

come find me here beneath the moon of wintertime
amid the press of feelings, all of them mine
the winter sun hangs like a ghost in time
another year … another year
i’m happy blank, the days run quietly by
i cherish skin, my need, and abhor the lies
up in my room beneath the winter’s icy blue
i scratch my thoughts on love
and the summer’s long remove

gallagher

14 nov 78


— Copyright 1965-2008 by Dennis Gallagher —

1978-11-15

Wednesday, November 15th, 1978

My family’s wound envelopes me.
I feel Danny’s need … as I remember my own years …
in lucid moments between the running days I remember him
and wonder how I can feel so strongly
and do so little for love.

Everyone seems to live simpler lives than I
rootless man living off many lives
and not having one of my own to share or claim

I wait for history’s wheels to spew me out
frantically waiting on Godot and wisdom to find me…
… spoiled child … karmic wastrel

Five minutes with Rose on the phone in anger
and my family’s wound envelopes me….

gallagher
15 nov 78

— Copyright 1965-2008 by Dennis Gallagher —