A Model Year (Part 3 of 5)

Re-trace & re-learn. Return home to the daily
tasks, making pasta in the kitchen the heat

is inescapable. Bare feet flat against wood
floor & it's still two months till August.

The neighborhood is heating up,
more bodies on the street

each day. More voices till the early hours
of the morning. Broken streetlights &

the train passing overhead. Impossible to drink
the glass of water while it's still cold.

When standing in the door of the refrigerator
isn't enough. When the promise of fall &

the return of jackets is not enough. Another year
passes & the body is tired. Falling into a dream,

an escape from monthly bills & worries
of money & debt. When I last dreamed of you,

there was a hole in your side. A fist-sized hole.
I reached for you & reached my hand right through.

* * *

The act of reaching for another causes
such misery that it's easy to forget the good.

The memory of New Year's replaced
with the memory of packing boxes.

Every new failure returns to this. The ground shifts
& everything goes on without you, without me.

A car runs a red light & strikes a child on a bike.
The cat licks his claws clean having satisfied

his urge to hunt. The tape rewinds & begins again.
The question of how long things can go on this way

is answered with always of course.
Always. I know this but still can't stop.