march 27, 2021

other people have written compellingly about their memory loss but i can't remember who or what they said.

cloud cover means the brighter nights, the downtown lights blanketing my backyard in an orange smoggy glow at 1am
i used to chainsmoke and let the nicotine decide how angry i was going to be, possums trundling past with fleas on their haunches
when i was a child i thought running away was survival, not identity

i think of Nikki, her times that were not meant for tree poems, i think Octavia knew who god was, i think i am
more like Stanley Plumly in an icebox, white stone laying on a black stone, the rot of the system laid bare in my times and on my body:
together we are a mouth without a tongue or teeth, saying
a thing of beauty is a waste forever.