68 of 185

Write now Article Tools

DEBRIS

For two homophobic,
weightlifting football players
hugging was not manly & cool. But I guess we figured
goodbye was a special occasion. We ignored
almost
everything we'd learned about being manly & cool,
but we did not cry.

We had become popular (and happy)
by being men, by not showing emotion.
Hugging was one thing, but we knew
we could not cry.

I never met a friend like him in college, doubt
if he ever found one like me
at bootcamp. I knew, even then,
my life would be different without
without my best friend, but
as I watched him walk across the gravel,
as he climbed into his beat-up pick-up,
as the engine grumbled at the bitter air, and
as he sped away
I knew
I could not cry.

Staring out the same window years later,
my empty driveway
looks much like it did that day.
I wait
for his Dakota to come rumbling back
from somewhere up the street,
for him to jump out & smile & say "what's up dude?"
and tell me, ya know,
maybe we were wrong
about that No Crying thing.

No one else can say
it's ok. No one can tell me
it's cool
if I cry now, only him. But he can't
reach me from his helicopter, which
recently crashed into the sand.

Learn more about this author, M. Frederick Voorhees.
Click here to send this author comments or questions.

Add your voice

Know something about Poetry: I do not cry?
We want to hear your view. Write now!