Heimlich

Comes up behind you at a party, masks your eyeswith his mammogram hands, asks, 'Guess who?'A bear-hugger from way back. Trains by wrappingaround bridge pilings, vending machines, a Douglas fir.Avoided at most parties: too clingy, too close a talker.Hovers near buffet trays glaring at your chest, handsrasping between songs. You poke fun at his tightlederhosen, his tin flute, but you've bitten offmore than you can chew. Through the crowdhe rushes to you, binds two fists into one underyour sternum. By his second squeeze, the ghostsof mine canaries flood your mouth and streamto that part of horizon he's left ajar.