In New York there was always a guy
said he was an accountant, said he’d
take care of things—always got a refund
using his services, cost a pittance
for the amount I got back. I asked no
questions, knew expenses he claimed
were a sham, but hey, my tax refund
was my trip to Bermuda, to Mexico,
to the Virgin Islands, one year,
it helped me buy an end-of-the-year
showroom model car, a deep red Datsun.
Sometimes you have to trust a guy.
Julene Tripp Weaver is a psychotherapist and writer in Seattle. Her last book, truth be bold—Serenading Life & Death in the Age of AIDS, was a finalist for a Lambda Literary Award, and won the Bisexual Book Award. Her poetry is widely published in journals and anthologies. www.julenetrippweaver.com, @trippweavepoet