We knew each other
when I was young,
and he was younger still.
I had been at judo in the gym;
had just changed clothes and was leaving
when he hailed me at the door.
Jeffrey Wilson had been at lifting weights
Wanting strength and muscle
just enough to compel
certain people to leave him alone.
"Girls like muscular men, too," he said.
Jeffrey Wilson told me about someone he hated.
A classmate of his
seems she made him nervous
when he drove in driver's ed.
He mentioned other people he said he hated.
And one girl he'd wanted to go with all year.
He'd written notes, tried several times
to go up to her
to talk to her.
"But when I do, she just walks away."
The evening air at the gym door mixed with the small of sweat and chlorine from the pool.
And Jeffrey Wilson talked about a bench press he wanted to buy.
It cost seventy dollars.
He'd decided he needed new clothes more.
Maybe he'd get it next year.
Two years later
It is now two years since I last saw Jeffrey Wilson.
I found him today here on the page.
I have written him, and he is immortal.
He only aspired to be an electrician.
Carrollton, 1979, and Dallas, GA, 1981.10