On Our First Meeting, The Deliberate Lie You Told Me, The Cloaked, Bold-Faced Lie That It Is Poem by Dennis Ryan

Wednesday night, March 27, 2024 at 10: 05 p.m.

"How many lies will you have to suffer
until you discover there's nobody home? "
—Dan Fogelberg, "Wishing On The Moon" from the album Phoenix, You Tube Music Video

On our first meeting—the deliberate lie you told,
setting me up for major disappointment once again
after many kindnesses and considerations bestowed—
perhaps something happened just before you were
about to leave home, or even before that; but no, no
way, I think. You could have waited—waited until near
the end, or at the end of our friendship the way Amanda
did, until the last day we worked together at the soccer
store. Or waited until at least midstream in the relationship,
the way Merrideth did, making promises—promise after
promise—she never intended to keep during that evening together at the wine bar. But no, and I should have learned
by now, the hard way, but no, no; had I just been will, Will
Shakespeare at his favorite watering hole, I woulda showed
‘em—I mean her. Yeah, girl. In my dreams, in my dreams…
You clearly have neither self-respect nor respect for me—
the deliberate lie being the cloaked, bold-faced lie that it is.