Got a half day at work, so I napped nice and long. Woke refreshed and wrote this poem without expecting to.
Memory, If Nowhere Else
each morning and profane, trudge through
near summer swelter to work and
grin under my mask jackal wide. I get
paid to do this. Lucifer bass on the wall
flaps jingles, jangles on about Heaven
as if the old carp even remembers.
I remember rock'n'roll. Theaters with
balconies and sex fusing with the silver
screen. I pledged never to forget so
unstuck in time I write, more film
than human, more literate than bedwetting.
As Eve bit the fruit she felt
every flower wilt
while she savoured bitterness.
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