The Things You’ll Forget

for my mother

The graceless things you’ve done,
all of them.

Time you shouldn’t be
keeping track of anyway,

your passwords, her
middle name,

lines running through
your head, that one time,

Virginia, pleasant
as it was,

to speak ill
or otherwise,

your previous intentions,
people you mean

to save, people
who mean to save you,

spreadsheets, terrible
histories,

and the lyrics
to a song that’s not playing.

Not for forever, not for 4/4
of forever

not for 3/4 of forever,
but, at least until

the band takes
its next break.

These are the things you’ll forget
watching other people dancing.

–May 14, 2016