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Christmas Tale-Poem by Joe Balaz
In Loving Memory Of-Poem by Michael Marrotti
The Tattooed Man-Poem by Daniel G. Snethen
You Got a Friend-Poem by Jerry Vilhotti
70,000 Birds-Poem by Judith Partin-Nielsen
Migrations #1-Poem by Judith Partin-Nielsen
at the crest-Poem by Meg Baird
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a subtle karate pose-Poem by Mark Young
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Dark Tales from Gent's Pens

yougotafriend.jpg
Art by Cindy Rosmus 2017

You Got a Friend

by Jerry Vilhotti

(A tone poem)

 

Tom would call Johnny his kid brother by six years, born in the same decade, and ask him if he could go up to their place in Connecticut to eat their Easter dinner with them, as his fourth wife Rhoda said he couldn't go with her to the City of Brotherly Love, since she suspected he was an anti-Semite, and despite him saying he didn't hate all Semitic peoples, for some of his best friends were Jews and A-rabs, and so he couldn't go to Yom Kippur, and Johnny would say yes, despite all their past relationship: Tommy tom-tom throwing him out of his apartment that hovered twenty-one flights above Williamsburg that could see into the eye of Manhattan—right up to Broadway, when Johnny was finishing his fourth years’ teaching at Bedford-Sty, where Lena Horne was born, while his wife and one-year-old son were staying in Connecticut; waiting for his coming back to their new home in the Litchfield Hills. Johnny had been asked by their mother to do a "brother's keeper" over him and watch to see if Tom were going to go on another journey to find Christ in upstate New York by the Finger Lakes and thwart him from such a dangerous thing, and years after, Tom would tell Johnny how sorry he was for all he had done on him and they became friends. Johnny said he was welcomed to eat with his wife and their three children—a boy and two girls, and broke bread. Tom cried. 

 


 
Jerry (jvilhotti@optimum.net) graduated from the only college that won the NIT and NCCA basketball tournaments in the same year, but more importantly than that, Jonas Salk, who helped rid some of the world of polio with his vaccine, was also given the opportunity to contribute to Mankind and graduated from the same NYC College that’s called in some circles “The poor man’s Harvard.” This, and the fact that there was a place of higher learning that indeed gave every race, nationality, and creed an opportunity to play in the game of sculpting a better world, gives him greater pleasure and as good fortune would have it, a nice publisher has accepted two collections of his: Gods Depicting Pastime (You have to like, or dislike, baseball to enjoy.), and Specks in the Eyes of Seeing, that follows a toddler's journey into manhood. He thanks you for your time and dedication. . . .

In Association with Black Petals & Fossil Publications 2017