Memories are never what I can remember the fifth of November
yesterday, my dog jumped over the wooden fence with a chain round his neck
Maybe he was happy to have returned after a year of being lost
only Cody would care when I was teased at school for being an ember
merely smoldering ash not worth a second glance until Cathy looked back
Cathy with her blue eyes saw me as I saw her, красивый человек
ugly as bloody shins tumbling out of the sky on my bike, a high cost
to turn a woman's head as I walked on ahead to class happy to smile
Only it wasn't wine and roses in high school, it was what I still lack
forgetful of others, as Epimetheus, in hindsight, I saw light
fission split the atoms over Hiroshima, over Nagasaki
Murderous mushroom clouds disintegrate shadows on the walls, shining bright
yesterday, I woke up in a B-29 eating teriyaki
History swallows whole sailors two at a time, hubris boasts full of bile
ancient conniving winks at a blind man to thrive at sea until the winds
nestle above the clouds, deep in conversation, an argument ensues
difficult to say whom but Ithaca pushes the waves off course, sextant
searches the sky for light traveling to Goa from Lisbon, a fight blinds
Camões, a Cyclops, ancient as war herself, measures the horizon
left behind on the plane, I read The Lusiads, listening to the Blues
exactly when I saw myself floating above my body, an infant
articulate with words, taking seven steps north, I spoke of becoming
no more, a miracle, and returned to myself under the setting sun
left to navigate death, alone with mendicants, I could not find release
yesterday, I blew out the candles on my cake, fifty-three, they were prime
Succulent teats suckle Romulus and Remus until my bliss must cease
quintessentially good, mythology makes us think evil is a crime
until destruction counts, if my brother must die, why am I not plumbing
as the depths of blood runs shallow as the Tiber is wide, I can explain
really, but as a man, I plead the Fifth, to speak incriminates the law
even the Lupercal, hidden since Augustus, remains the foundation
at the foot of the hill called Mons Palatinus, as only one can reign
twins separate murder, technically fratricide, with a struggle for power
truth offers a she-wolf to share her loss with milk, the twins, under her paw
helplessly overcome their dire situation, uncertain salvation
excavate the palace, under restoration, within a cavity
Witty from birth, my wrists hurt the cleaver hands down as my blood the floor showers
ridiculed by the gods, by the worst, by children, by parents, by adults
insanity to feign, fooling even myself, while in recovery
sinister forces hide deep beneath the palace, a pinball machine tilts
tilts at windmills, the lance of lore, Don Quixote as self-discovery
slash my wrists, what's the point, a return flight to then, before now, the city
transformed in Chicago, where I live, twenty years, shelving books, sweeping floors
only humility ain't my bag, radical in an age of weather
Tell me what can I do to make a living here, clean projectile vomit
effortless, with the flow, resistance is futile, to open all doors
asinine practices, just one is all I need, but the hallway is full
create the path you seek, they say, discover time is light as a feather
harness the energy to change for the better kids chomping at the bit
Maybe they will become footballers, horse jockeys, race car drivers, or worse
edge mediocrity off the table, play fresh, with a new deck, the pull
as tug-of-war pushes the envelope of space, where do we go from here
Liquid gold is water found on other planets, part of an escape plan
even with prosthetic hands, I write this poem late at night while the mere
suggestion of quitting evokes lost memories of running last, I scan
slides of film in my head, a homunculus plays one frame before the curse
originally, time, a preoccupation for philosophy schools
neutralized the concept with the atomic bomb, now physics is for fools
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