its memory foam
in late-stage Alzheimer’s
doesn’t remember me
or the shape of my head
at first I thought it was
that streak of laziness
that afflicts the old
but when I laid down
it wasn’t able to rise
to meet me
and mumbled
on another day
as I was getting into bed
Have we met before?
was it your mouth curl and glistening eye or that dust free dimple with the nose crimp or the way your voice tickled the rims of my ears? friendships seem to sprout from the strangest places and the b
do you canine-handicapped really understand dog-kids? how pretty or handsome they look after a bath and clip and a blue-ribbon poop on our morning walk how charming each time a paw begs for food or pe
aren’t we driven by our strongest imperative - need? and don’t our wants feel more like the occasional vacation? and isn’t silence the station stop where we can pick up a snack fill up the car and get