Past Tense

for Billy

I want to remember you
as brawny, voracious,
vomiting anchovies.

Grabbing the saltshaker,
stroking my leg 
under the table.

Saying Grace, 
asking God’s help at the pharmacy,

riding the stolen bike 
through tall grass in moonlight.

Awake, staring in the coffee cup.
Wearing a rucksack with four old cameras,
pawn tickets, a change of clothes.

Dreaming of Siberia and the Yucatan,
reaching for my hand.

In darkness I grope for your face,
feel your skeletal smile.