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©1995 Chris Abraham

I love poem I wrote to a girl I dated named Liz Humphries. Where is she now? I really don't know.

When I was in love in the early 90s, I wrote many poems about a girl named Elizabeth. I flew her out from Kent, UK, and to Honolulu. I wrote a poem about one moment, in Triangle Park in Waikiki. It moved me.

I don't even know where this poem came from. It really must have been possession, because this isn't very much me. Or is it? Well, its certainly innuendo.

It's funny to find odd little treasures like this poem. I mean, what was it about the discman that made me feel like writing a poem?

In 1996, Anne Brossard and I traveled around the globe. Anne was in the last stage of freedom before attending graduate school at Columbia, and I a photographer. And I wrote this poem about the oppressive heat of Singapore, which is nothing compared to DC funk.

This is my favorite ode to Kathryn Medland. She is an inspired poet and I want to make that clear. And so, in admiration of her art, I wrote about her. There might have been a crush involved.

I fell in love with an English Rose named Liz Humphries while studying in England at UEA. When I met her, we were at the Norwich boat house for UEA. She wore a big unflattering sweatshirt, red as a Cardinal. I imprinted on it.

This poem is the end of a series of 1997-era poetry about seeing my friend Kathryn Medland after a few years. She was an amazing friend who I always adored for her love and lust for life. She honored me by featuring the work as part of her wedding reception's party favor and printed my words along with her other faves (e.e. cumming, etc.) and offering them to her wedding guests. It was high honor to me.

This is another of the poems that Kathryn Medland printed out to share with her wedding party. It was my biggest artistic honor to be there, like placemats, sitting at random table-settings. To be commingled and cojoined with the work of e.e. cummings.