Pit
They whirl me, twist and turn, these memories.
I'm in a twirlwind down on Middle Country again,
The El-Eye-Ee and the twenty-four-seven Diner where you and I and those others stayed up that time
and I drank way too much coffee, again.
And those friends are like yellowed dolls,
The ones that brought me glee at five,
That I treasured at ten,
Than I forgot at fifteen,
And discarded at twenty
(Packed out, Tossed in, Donated up).
Carol, what happened to those times Mom sewed that ear
Because I loved you so much you broke, over and over? (Now it's all a metaphor
For the rough love I seek
And the patchwork sewing job
I've done on myself)
There's a pit in this stomach,
Where none of it resolves,
Where I'm missing that bile
That takes these scraps and churns them into
new cells and old waste.
Eventually they just gather
on my ass and thighs,
These memories,
Weighing me down.
Written October 2008
I'm in a twirlwind down on Middle Country again,
The El-Eye-Ee and the twenty-four-seven Diner where you and I and those others stayed up that time
and I drank way too much coffee, again.
And those friends are like yellowed dolls,
The ones that brought me glee at five,
That I treasured at ten,
Than I forgot at fifteen,
And discarded at twenty
(Packed out, Tossed in, Donated up).
Carol, what happened to those times Mom sewed that ear
Because I loved you so much you broke, over and over? (Now it's all a metaphor
For the rough love I seek
And the patchwork sewing job
I've done on myself)
There's a pit in this stomach,
Where none of it resolves,
Where I'm missing that bile
That takes these scraps and churns them into
new cells and old waste.
Eventually they just gather
on my ass and thighs,
These memories,
Weighing me down.
Written October 2008