i would go once again
to the places
i have been
to see what of me
i might find there
in the memory
of streets
& the minds
of hills
~
time has never known
what its to do with me
& i am infested
with its minutes
&
backwatered
by the tides
of its great bowl
dont
ever think you have been forgotten
in
the grey exchange of memory trade
because
theres people out there
who
wake up remembering the faces
&
the times & the names
&
the places & the games
they
only maybe met or saw or heard
like only once before
the places he lays
are all missing from him now
gone
vets
for
blood
tests
tv does a countdown of xmas movies without finesse
all low grade critics
and soap faces
talking personal experience
not
objective
critique
and when they've done Die Hard and Trading Places
she
goes
to
shower
the long day
off
herself
while i sit cross legged on the bedspread
in a crisp white towel
and
meditate
to the sound of running dancing water
for
one
long
minute
