For Inez, Wherever She May Be
One glorious, adulterous afternoon
A sweet hooker said to me
βIt takes heart to rob a bank.β
She meant her boyfriend, brother, father β
Someone she loved.
Oh she was lovely! Kissed me sincerely!
She wrote poetry, she told me. Shy about it.
She showed me everything
But her poetry.
A brazen time it was for me.
Cash in my mouth, I dined high.
In my reflections I often wonder
If she came.
David Lewizky is a 79-year-old retired social worker/family therapist living up the road a piece in Buffalo, New York. When he was a young man he studied under Charles Olson. He is David’s spirit father. In 2002 Lewizky resumed writing poetry after a 35-year hiatus. During that time he carried a sandwich board in my brain declaring me: “Poet. Not writing!” He has had about 125 poems published in a variety of lit mags such as Nimrod and Passages North; and he has work forthcoming in Seneca Review and Main Street Rag among others.