To Joe Six-Pack I Never Met, Seated Down the Bar 


I am 
kin; apart 
from crimes and vindications,
the times you screwed 
your neighbor's wife 
or saved his kid 
from immolation, booed 
or cheered the Red Sox, 
ate meat or tofu, 
voted red or blue, 
I like you am ocean 
infinite between 
the finite tips 
of me, paradox in socks 


and pants, beer 
in hand, like you 
I drain it down my 
endless worm-hole 
as you down yours, stand, 
pay tab and tip, poise 
cap and coat against 
the no-less-endless 
cold, and never having met you, 
know you brother:  
Cheers.  

________________________________________________________________


Tracy K. Lewis holds the title of Distinguished Teaching Professor Emeritus of Spanish and Portuguese at the State University of New York at Oswego.  He has published three books of poetry in English, Spanish, and Guarani, and has contributed poems to various journals in the U.S. and Latin America.