In talking to a temporary friend
I met on BART, before I knew him well
enough to gauge his shallow depth and fend
his crude advances off, I let him tell
me (twice) what he’d endow if he were rich:
a canine-friendly dorm, with vet, at Cal.
I said that college life is just a hitch
with littered pets abandoned, but this gal
was disregarded by a grumpy fool.
I tried to laugh – suggested that the rooms
be given to the dogs, who’d interview
companions so whenever class resumes,
a student-dog relationship would thrive.
He didn’t grin. The friendship can’t survive.