David Lohrey



Nightly News

“I have no friends, and you are one of them.”
This tastes exactly like chocolate mousse.
I have so many friends who mean nothing to me.

The last friend I ever had greeted my every word with joy.
She had much to live for but seemed alive for me.
Others treat friendship as a burden.

They ignore me and it makes them feel guilty. Every greeting
stings like a Chinese water torture. Drip. The only aspect
of our friendship remaining is the hope of its finally ending. Drop.


I’ve been waiting for a reply. Left several messages.
It’s been two weeks now without an answer. I’ve been consumed
by this topic. I’ve been eager for discussion.

“What does that have to do with me?” Drip.
My good friend replies to my news of the lacrosse team at Duke
falsely accused of rape. That’s one way to end a friendship. Drop.

People start reading different papers. Justice becomes another hobby.
It’s not that love disappears, or not only; it’s an absence of interest,
an indifference. “Warm regards” won’t do it.

Old friends cease to exist. The friendship ends,
like one’s faith in God. You can’t save a friendship;
you must save yourself.




David Lohrey was born on the Hudson River but grew up on the Mississippi in Memphis. He graduated from U.C., Berkeley. He earned his Ph.D. at Charles Sturt University, Wagga Wagga, AUS. He currently teaches in Tokyo. He has reviewed books for The Los Angeles Times and The Orange County Register, has been a member of the Dramatists Guild in New York, and served as a voting member of the Los Angeles Ovation Awards for theater. His plays have appeared around the country and, more recently, in Croatia. In a Newark Minute and Sperm Counts were both produced this year in Estonia. His poetry can be found in The Rats Ass Review, Plum Tree Tavern, The Blue Mountain Review, Peeking Cat Poetry Magazine, and Quarterday. He is currently writing a memoir of his years living in the Persian Gulf.
 
 
previous page     contents     next page