Tommy, Friend And Mentor Poem by Nate Peligeiro

Since long ago,
for many years
I've loved drinking alone
and listening to Tommy
growl or sing falsetto
or kick a can
or caress a piano
lo que sea.

I'm never alone when
Tommy's around.
I'm never stir crazy
or stuck
when Tommy's pounding
through the speakers.

Actually we've sailed
for Singapore together
and hung out as ghosts
on Hennepin.

It's funny and great
how you can know
someone so well
without ever
meeting them.

It's funny how
you could pass your hero
on the street
and you'd be
just another face.

Or would he see in you
something
familiar?
An understanding?

Would he recognize
a friend?

Would he remember
all the nights
we got drunk
and traded stories?
Or the times
we've road tripped
to Burma Shave
or tangoed till
they were sore?