Joe

I met Joe

in Brooklyn Technical High School.

He was tall,

thin,

bleach blond hair,

and long bangs

he chewed on

or curled behind his ear.

He wore

big pants,

loud yellow anorak.

Small hoops pierced

each ear.

boys reached for in fights

girls wished to whisper

in.

My parents met him

once.

I invited him to church.

They called him

nal-lah-rhee*

and told me 

not to invite him again.

He never went to class,

the only graduation he attended

was mine.

He offered

to take 

pictures.

He joined the army

when I enrolled at Baruch College.

When I transferred to Binghamton U.

He shipped out to Iraq.

Bored in my room,

I browse through websites.

I read about Joe.

A suicide bomber hit

the Stryker he drove.

A piece of metal pierced

straight through his brow

and out the back

of his shaved head.

He's back in the states now.

Barely concious.

awarded a purple heart.

*nal-lah-rhee-  Korean for "playboy"