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Memory Poem

By , Wyckoff, NJ

Those tall streetlamps dying
on the roads of rich suburban Cul-de-sacs
girls who rode bicycles underneath orange rainfall
and rolled across white ice fields
under hollow light bulbs
dancing with the ghosts of football games

Whose smiles were vaccines
For imaginary diseases
Spread through the water supply
And treated with alarm clocks
Where screams of laughter echoed in air
And memories made sandbars on the horizon
And limbs grew longer
And taller
And washed away with the tide

Who boiled cinnamon just to stay alive
Remembering fondly
Those green grass fields faded now
Under blankets of wool
Unspooled and cold

But in these things there was night
And smiles and grins, which wrapped around our faces
And warm stomachs bubbling with impermanence
And lungs emptying against principle
Through the streaks of storefronts with
Cash seeping in liquid form down our fingers
The nectar of brown flowing hair staining our clothes
With red cheeks of embarrassment amnesia
And heads and bodies bobbing on clandestine liquid around us
Swapping and seeping into amorphous shapes
Their laughter all sound and no substance
Where hours in the sun melted their umbilical charging cables
And bank accounts
And tolerance for pain

There were roads at the end of light
After hours. when neon eyeballs roamed
Where the spaces and houses around the bend were

but there had been shadows
coming out of the dark to chase our brake lights
one in particular
with whiskers
I saw him walk through the town
In glances through speeding glass
Reaping the rearview

With a broken mind
clasping with bloody fingers
Walking with shredded soles
And searching with bloodshot eyes
For a way out

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