Progress

 

 

I HAVE RECORDINGS OF OUR VOICES

IN ROOMS NOW COLLAPSED, OF US RUNNING

THROUGH BLUE BUILDINGS THAT STOOD

FIFTY YEARS.  SOUNDS FROM A SCHOOL

WHERE YOUR FOREHEAD WAS REOPENED

ON THE SHOE-SHAPED SLIDE.  PICTURES

OF THE TEAL-GREEN TUX YOU WANTED

FOR KINDERGARTEN GRADUATION.  OF YOU,

WET-COMBED HAIR AND RED-FACED HAPPY,

SITTING WITH YOUR MOTHER, EATING CAKE.

 

 

 

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