THE SPENDTHRIFT

(By Sevrin Housen)

Just as I do

On any given day,

I'm walking along

To the P.O. - only, this time

As I pass by the Barrio coffee/cafe:

I notice HER;

She's standing inside

At the end of a line -

I've forgotten her name

But I'm certain she's someone

I was in love with

Some thirty years back;

And she hasn't changed a bit!

I wasn't a spendthrift then.

Something about me

has changed.

I'm a spendthrift, now.

But what if I wasn't?

Would I stand a ghost of a chance

With her, with this dazzling beauty?

I won't, but I should:

Enter the Barrio

And wait in line

Directly behind her.

Even if she doesn't notice me,

I could pretend I want

A buttery, overpriced croissant

And a frothy cup of cappucino

To wash it down with.

Maybe I should stand

Behind her in line,

But I won't; the reason

Being the money I don't have.

Besides, what I do have

I'd rather take to my grave.

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[Note: Sev isn't penurious by a long sight. I think he's being allegorical here, regarding the money, at least! He was a regular Robert Redford clone in his youth and he's still ruggedly handsome. Miss 'what's-her-name' in the above would probably still find him absolutely charming. In this poem, he speaks for both of us (perhaps for all men, in fact), hence my wish to place it on my website. Sigh.]