I’ve got this friend

He’s not a great friend

But someone I know pretty well

I’ve known him a long time

He’s a real sarcastic, iconoclastic, son-of-a-bitch

He goes by the name of Timmy

He says he’s gone by that name his whole life

Like me, he considers himself an artist

Also like me, I’m not too sure he’s any good

Unlike me, writing’s not his thing

Timmy is a musician

A composer, to be more exact

I don’t care too much for his compositions

But with many years, and many works under his belt

I guess I’d have to say he’s doing alright

Timmy And I have a love/hate relationship

Yes, just like the saying goes

We love to hate each other

I critique him, as I make fun of his music

And he, in turn, belittles every writing I pen

But only, of course, after I make it public

We have one mutual friend

Her name is Betsy

She has repeatedly asked us both

Why we would ever be friends?

I think it’s the challenge

The fight, I tell her

The many drinks and battles, he says

Every one we’ve ever had

And to this day, there has never been a winner

Never once

And like I said, I’ve known him a long time

We are always taking opposite sides

Not on purpose, it’s just how we feel

It’s like a perfectly matched tug-of-war

If he likes something, I don’t

If he hates it, I love it

Tit for tat

Strikes and gutters

Right or wrong

Good or bad

It’s just like arguing into a mirror

Shout all you’d like

But you’ll never have the last word

That’s not the way it works

With us, it all ends in a tie

Just like the kids of today

Nobody loses, everyone wins

Everybody gets the same size trophies

No matter how good, how talented

Or how god awful and shit streaked

Better I wrap this up now

I have to get ready to meet Betsy and Timmy

I haven’t seen her in a while

I’ve missed her

And him too, I guess

Of course, I have a few things I can’t wait to tell him

But I’m also sure

He’s got a few for me, too

© Dicky J Loweman 2014


A Letter

I sat down to write a letter

I didn’t have to

But I did it anyway

You’re such a pretty girl, I wrote

I’ve fallen for so much of you

Your hair, long and brown

Your eyes, the deepest blue

These line went on for some time

I rattled off the many ways I loved her

I wrote about her perfect body

Her saint-like demeanor

All her motherly ways

Oh so many ways I loved her

I wrote for hours

Hours turned to days

And when I finished

I addressed the envelope

Stamped it

And walked it to the box

Give or take a couple of days and it arrived

When it did

It was opened

And because now I know

What a bitch you turned out to be

I’m glad I decided to mail it to myself

© Dicky J Loweman 2014

* Number 2 from Muses and Other Gauche Thoughts