Waxing Nostalgic

We were liquored up
best friends
or so it seemed
wasting a perfectly good Thursday
on my couch.
It's unclear how it came up
but it did--
What if one of us should be departed?
(One of us being me, of course.)
There were already thousands invested.

I brought out a sheet of paper
and an envelope, pulled a pen
from my pocket
neatly printed the safe's combination
and scribbled a sentence
asking him to sell off my collection.
"You keep one, give the rest
of the money to my mother."
I signed it with a rummy's hand.
He vowed to oblige, a tear in his beer
and the hacked legal document
was sealed and passed over.

Well, I've changed the code since then
and I haven't seen that kid in two years.
Won't even return my calls.
They're funny, the promises we make
to each other, well aware that
most of them will melt with the ice cubes.

Something tells me man's end won't be by fire.
It will be far friendlier than that.
You'll see.

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