my friend paul

my friend paul
says yes to almost anything
it’s one of the things i most love about being his friend
and after he says yes,
you meet on the side of a country you’ve never been
where he warms you with the considerably thoughtful things
a warm mug of hot cocoa and mini marshmallows
a glazed garlic pickle soaked in a scotch barrel
a pair of Sexy graphite beach tennis racquets
cool grey sailing t-shirts that read:
lady slipper, seize the day

— in spanish.

my friend paul
doesn’t even speak spanish
but i am still grateful for the image of him
at the helm of our dilapidated 40-foot sailboat
we bought her for one dollar — a taiwanese landfall
the one he later gave to the marina’s homeless man
the one he could always turn on a dime
his freckles hiding underneath wild cone-blown hair
as we rode 400 miles through the high Caribbean seas
running from pirates and big-bushed french women and gales
and never getting hurt once

— that’s just him.