MR. KOSMO

I first saw him
when we were both
teachers at the
language school.
I was in my twenties,
he in his sixties.
He was bundled up
in an overcoat
at any time of year.
He'd been in a
concentration camp
during the War.
Twenty years later,
he still had a
haunted and
frightened look.
We had both stayed
in the same skid row
hotel in San
Francisco when we
first arrived, but
years later,
he was still there.
It seemed a cruel
fate, that he
could only survive
by teaching
German.
Over the years
his name
has evolved
in my mind,
until now
I think of him
as Mister
All.

10/30/15