Berlioz

(dedicated to R. Krahn)

he walks slowly so you meet him
on the driveway
you say, “you were my first -
kinda like the first time you really notice a girl”

he just scowls
his shock of wild long hair and sideburns
long hooked nose
giving him that insane wildness

we enter the house and he sits waiting for
his glass of red

small talk in quiet tones escalates into
near shouting
as he downs his wine
(which you fill again and again)

he passions about integration
boxes don’t suit him well
he gesticulates a large circle
almost singing his words

EVERYTHING can fit into the circle
he says
and if not
make the circle larger

exclusion hurts his wild head

never forget to think of everything
otherwise you truly are not
living or growing

and you understand why he was your first