Poem 21: American Wheels

I met David Berman in a dream last night.

He gave me a lift
and we went for a drink.

We had a good conversation and got along well.

He said he could only stay for one more drink. He had to leave early
because he had a show the next day.

Afterwards I tried to explain to everyone
that I talked to David Berman,
and we had become fast friends.
But everyone told me he was dead.

I could no longer remember whether we talked
before or after he was dead,
or anything else that he had said.
I think he drove a black Lincoln.

--Eli Fox