Oh hi, poem.
Hi.
Well, just don't stand there like a stranger, poem,
come on m.
Is this a party or something?
Hi, everybody!
This is going to be
fun.
delineation
dark
Marie Howe
THE GOOD REASON FOR OUR FORGETfING
Who would have the day back you saw coming in dreams
long before the actual stood like a flower
gone bad in the jar? The dreamed drunken driving,
steering from the back seat, or the garden of mazes
and he forever turning as you felt your way along
the broken bushes. Even the street of barking dogs
you finally walked through, empty-handed, pointed
to one thing. Who would have it back?
After the fact, you throw the stinking water out,
scrub the sink and turn into the new life
as if dreaming, knowing it is no dream, knowing
better. Although, some nights, you smelled it.
didn't you? A certain dissembling deep in his eyes
you could never reach , not with love
not with fearfulness. You smelled, you were almost
sure of it, something like flowers,
