By Hal Sirowitz, from before, during, and after
Believing in Fate
I don’t have a telephone, she said,
so I can’t give you a number.
I’m not a great fan of planned dates.
But if I happen to bump into you
on the street I’d be willing to go for coffee.
Let’s leave it to chance. It brought
us together once. It could work a second time.
You could help fate along by hanging out
in Chelsea. That’s where I live. If I
gave you any more information I’d be cheating.
The Wind Throws Back
I lied when I told you I didn’t have
a phone number, she said. I wasn’t
sure about you, but now that I know
you’re sane & responsible–aren’t you?–
I’m going to throw caution to the wind
&hope it doesn’t blow back in my face.
But if you ever spent any time in a mental hospital
I’d like to know. I won’t let
it prejudice me against you.
I’m willing to give you a chance,
provided you get a letter from a psychiatrist
stating your case was closed.
