Poetry By Lewis Dimmick

Paul Sableman CC




MY OLD FRIEND IS CLEARLY ON DRUGS

i don’t remember you talking this much
i don’t remember you talking this LOUD
you’re living back with your parents,
leaving in your wake—in New Jersey—a breakdown
you’re ranting about mountains and butterflies,
straddling the earth with shoes twice your size
my man, you’re wired as a switchboard
my boy, cut the cord
on your chatter
consider ceasing your soliloquy
you’ve been going an hour without a word from me
where is the humble fellow i once knew?
what devil has done this to you?
what God has re-created you?
what is a bewildered friend to do?
when finally i look at the clock to hint
you note the hint then discard it
your new God won’t let you quit
i wonder now if i should try some pills
no more spills
into foolish despair
about perfecting poems
or not having hair
or having too much in the wrong places
or how mostly we vanish
without leaving traces

​


​Lewis Dimmick holds an MFA from New York University and is a Lecturer in English at the College of Staten Island. His first book, This Music: Pieces on Heavy Metal, Punk Rock, and Hardcore Punk, was published by Wardance Records. His writing has appeared in The Village Voice, Decibel, Vice, Noisey, The Big Takeover, Headstuff, and The Republic of Letters. He lives and writes in New York.