Ode To Luke G.

It's been almost 15 years
since your fatal date
with Spring Creek Rd.
and you've never strayed
too far from my mind.

I didn't attend your funeral
and sometimes I regret that choice
instead I sang the first song
I ever wrote
at a collegiate open mic
thinking that a fairer tribute
than public grief
for you inspired me
more than you ever knew.

In our high school
creative writing class
you wrote a poem
about my notebook cover
at the time
a collage of xeroxed
LIFE magazine photos
and snap shots
from a family trip to AZ
and it was good
the best poem
to come out of that class
but more important,
more shocking,
it was cool.

More than Dickinson, Kerouac, or O'Hara
you made poetry cool.
You gave me permission to write,
devoid of fear or judgement.
Yes, I remember you as a great teammate-
your green and yellow cleats,
we called you Green Lightening.
Yes, you were a unique friend, funny and loyal
but also honest even biting.
But you, more than anyone, gave me poetry.

You live in every poem I write.
This one, perhaps, more than others.