POEM - IT WAS ALL THAT MATTERED

every time he came up to see me
his car broke down
ran him about three hundred bucks per trip
he’d drive two hours up from the Cape
on some weekend
to escape the boredom of living with his mother
we’d go out drinking in the nights
and raise terrible hell.
he’d usually go home with a girl
and call me to brag about it
on Sunday afternoon
and then tell me he was headed home.
a few minutes later he’d call back and ask
for a ride from the auto repair shop
I’d pick him up and bring him to my place
to wait it out over a few beers
we’d sit around and laugh about
how much those bastards at the auto repair shop
would take him for this time.
he took it to the same shop
and each visit they found something new
to fix that they’d missed before
but he had a good sense of humor though
and he’d grin through it all and say,
“well, at least I got to hookup with a girl.”