The letter at the bottom of the stairs
had the right address on it
from down south where
my cousin's best friend
went to college
to study chemistry and rhetoric.
He was the only guy I knew who
read Diderot as a hobby and
collected medieval artwork
of fabulous animals
that visited Alfred’s court.
Once we got to know each other
he extensively shared memories
of his days at Hampden Sydney
and never forgot to mention
every time how he was the center
for the basketball team
and never missed a game during
his entire academic career.
He once sang the entire catalog of
Queen songs for a contest during spring break
winning first place and the prize was
a fortune cookie from the Chinese take out
restaurant over on Fifth Street.
More often than not he would visit me
first when he came to town, even before
he went to the automotive store
to look at the new radials.
