Will he ever learn again? Did he ever in the first place?
First place, last place, last place he thought he would ever be.
What about the road not taken? The paths unchosen?
The torn lederhosen of Nancy, lost in Avignon, before the fall.
Autumn ghosts of Burger King parking lots and nausea,
diarrhea and repetition, after Freud, before Lacan
invisible memories and broken plungers;
New Jersey, December and petty larceny.
Do you remember the beach in August or only the Light?
Forgotten spring times, fecund and profound:
Did it start as suddenly at it ended or was it always there?
Or was it here: fort, da, fort, da
clocks have a way of filling the room
fort, da, fort, da
I wondered
two days ago
what it would be like
fort, da, fort, da
if anything
fort, da, fort, da
Summer is her now; humidity and balm and summers gone
He once said he would trade them all for an extra day with her;
now it seems each day we spent was one I lost.
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