'He Grasps Me in an Intimate Manner'

The terrible, wonderful device that bears his name was invented by the American urologist Frederic Foley (1891-1966) in 1929. I left rehab on Friday with my faithful friend Foley at my side. More specifically he hangs from my walker. He is demanding but reliable, like a good teacher. On Saturday, my friend Dave Lull asked: “Has Foley ever inspired a decent (or indecent) poem?” Naturally Dave answered his own question with a poem titled “My Friend Foley” by the late James B. Sinclair (1927-2018), a plant pathologist in Illinois. It reads like a riddle poem or a newly discovered bit of juvenilia by A.E. Housman. Sinclair, it turns out, was also gay: “He grasps me in an intimate manner, / gently holding me close.” He must have possessed a courageous streak and a frequently sharpened sense of irony. Sinclair takes the careful route and doesn’t try to rhyme with Foley. In English the options are limited: holy [moly], goalie, holey, lowly, wholly, ravioli. I challenge you to make something out of that mess.