Memory wonders (poem)

Bones are carved, fat is stacked and people lean on what is there to support them

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Keeper of the backbeat

Sometimes it feels there are only the surroundings that form

nothing sticks yet nothing passes, nothing to touch which is known to be my own

no sincere smiles meant to enliven

bones are carved, fat is stacked and people lean on what is there to support them

the blood runs circuitous and forgetful of it’s force and import

the brain strolls and scrambles, scratches at murmurs of past facts and future functions

there is little use to what’s been done and more often than not none of the millions of actions enacted serve more than a revolving process

Retreat in expression, for there are no receivers in sight

Memory wonders if it’s ever seen that which it wishes were whole the world over

For my grandmother (poem)

For my grandmother:

There is somebody who will remember

the map of your skin

and the candy you chose

to fill the heavy lidded,

solid fitted,

multi- faceted

bowl of your life.

I will remember

the powdered rose scent

of your bathroom

and what you chose

to surround you.

your unmatchable smile,

the way you giggled,

your love,

all still keep me company.