Would Ever Seen

I feel you off-hand in my pocket just now,
jingle your magic among the loose change,
finger the coin of your clever tricks,
behind my ear, this quarter, wow, perhaps
the very one I’d never spend, keep for good luck,
all the money in the world to me momentarily,
never use it to tip porters or pass on to panhandlers,
make juke box 70s’ plays or test old dime-store scales,
a fortune to me I wouldn’t even bet on Green Bay.
I have to smile about that for all the distance we’ve kept,
wonder maybe if we’re both laughing still,
facing opposite horizons half worlds away,
you grinning into a brilliant orange and red dawn sunrise,
me joking around before a gray dusk with a pale moon high,
recall all the riddles, the knock-knockers, the dumb limericks,
those groaner puns and word replacement songs,
imitations of comedians’ best monologues memorized,
timeless TV and movie comedy routines relived.
We were the absolutely funniest, damnedest most hilarious
things we’d ever seen or would ever know.