A better guide to memory than
time is smell; what made me fumble
my wallet in a crosswalk was
not four months but a woman's
conditioner
Watching your spade-head thumbtips
hold chopsticks dumbs me. The frog
lamp watches my shoulders
lower. You sip free water like you
used to
Change lies in people; the small
dizzying boomerangs are in things in
drawers
The Thai waiter waltzes with a
dustpan to "Sweet Jane" through a
half-closed door and there's a thrill here.
The city is soaked, the tea steams, you
hiccup when you swallow, my ankle
brushes your sneaker, and this
will be locked in a crumpled menu