Regrets in the Dead of Winter

(For Gary Armstrong, 1954-2001)

Remember when
You told me Betamax
Would beat out VHS?

You wore such confidence,
Four years older, a vet—
The coolest smoker I knew.

Remember your apartment
Over the funeral home,
Cheap if you answered the phone?

You were so little like Lloyd,
The little brother you resembled,
dark Choctaw hair, deep-set eyes.

Remember those porn videos,
The popcorn and Scotch,
Late nights becoming mornings?

You carried a sorrow
I never understood, something
Nervous, unspoken, and raw.

Remember how
I betrayed you with her,
And then avoided you forever?

I didn’t even know you’d died.
I looked for you, Googled you,
Found a photo of your headstone.

Goddamnit, Gary—you win.
You’ll never have to decide
How sorry I really am.