Changes

Visit

By Greg Kosmicki

You came by Saturday afternoon after work
to say hello and pick up the hundred-dollar bill
Uncle Mike sent you
mostly to pick up the hundred
a little bit to talk
and so we sat
there in the breakfast nook
across the table
from you.
You tell us about some of the people at work
that you like and some
you don't, and then we talk more
about your friends
getting busted for driving a stolen car
another busted for being out of county
with a court appearance coming up
another busted for some old arrest warrants
the other kid in the ill-fated car
with the illegal plates
busted for trying to lie to the cops about who he is.
You say almost all my friends
use something every day
tell us how the old guy across the street
tried to score some off you
how you never have to buy it
since someone always is coming over
to your place and bringing something.
I comment how you're skinnier,
Debbie asks if it's because of all the drugs
you say no you're just eating less,
trying to lose weight,
you're down to one-sixty-five.
You chew your fingers like you always do
when you're nervous,
we talk a lot but your mom acts weird like she's talking
to someone she doesn't know
and I sit over there on my side of the table
beside her, feeling exactly like I have grown up
to become my father and you became me.
Everything I say comes from
someplace different than me
and then you decide finally to get up and leave
to go back to your new house you just moved to
where you must surely go since you
have moved your bed over there
and your clothes,
and all the posters off your walls.