Jack Lorts is a retired educator, living in small town eastern Oregon, and a poet publishing in little mags as well as a recent chapbook, The Daughter Poems & Others, by Pudding House Press.

The party at Ralph’s
was the party at Ralph’s
(he was in Europe, Bora Bora
or some such on a Fullbright).
Everyone from the Project was there.
Bobbi, who was house-sitting for Ralph,
said     What the hell

Come on over     If Ralph were here
he’d ask you
(he’s in Tibet or Tahiti
on a Guggenheim or some such).

A barrel of cheap wine was passed
cold pizza
and the usual solutions
to the world’s problems.
Vince, Herb and I
    watched the game on TV.

The party at Ralph’s
was the party at Ralph’s.
Thanks, Ralph,
wherever you are!