Friday, October 14, 2016



I had a meeting with a friend, or so I thought,
Until he slugged me in the gut.
It wasn’t much of a blow at all.
He hardly raised his voice in squall
Nor coiled his fist into a ball.

His smack was subtle, it seemed to me.
Yet left me breathlessly out to sea.
In all honest recollection
I anticipated blows and consternation
And tightened my gut and clenched my jaw
And spoke sparingly withal,
To save my strength for perseverance
Of gut-crunching interference.

It went about as planned.
Friendships friends be damned.
The Bible makes a claim or two
That should not be forgotten.
If the Bible’s claims are true
Then not all punchings are rotten.

Faithful are the wounds of a friend,
The kisses of an enemy, deceitful.
If friends that wound are faithful,
Then why is my friend hateful?

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