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Hello my foreign friend
With whom I play bridge
In an Internet game room
The cartoon image you choose
To represent yourself
Shows a handsome, vigorous,
Casually elegant man, standing
So secure
In his knotty pine and leather den
I imagine you are content
Sipping your gin and tonic
And playing your trump cards
From a wooden desk –
Antique?
Perhaps a family heirloom
Somehow I know
That you are embraced
By love –
North, south, east, west,
The whole world embraces you
A success
Perhaps wealthy beyond my wildest dreams
And also a gentleman sportsman
From a distance
I envy your golf handicap
As for me
I could never afford to play golf
Your beautiful wife
And splendid children
Are waiting patiently for you
In the adjoining room
That room just past my computer window
You didn’t think I could see into
Your whole damned life,
Did you?
You are so content
I am pleased for you
I would not wish you ill
For all the world
Go ahead and play your trumps
Go ahead, hurry, play them
While I force myself to pretend
That I am a real man
And not merely a cartoon picture
Steven Gulvezan has wandered in the magical world of words from an early age. Unable to make a living as a writer of fiction and poetry, he has put bread on the table as a journalist and a librarian. He believes that the job of the poet is to bring the arrangement of symbols upon a piece of paper as close to the reality of the heart as possible. He considers himself a disciple in words of the great sculptor Alberto Giacometti – he attempts to scrape away layer upon layer of the mask of fiction to get at an inner reality; but, of course, with each layer he exposes, he discovers another layer of fiction – not reality – beneath it. At its best he hopes that his poetry is able to cut close enough to the bone of truth to make it worthwhile to read.