alongside long

i lose my hat

on the subway

shuffling around midstep

like a wounded dog trailing

his master already ahead in a deep forest

when a woman taps me before

i race up to the heavens

of the forgetful dead

hands me my hat

with a calm face

a solo silence

and i imagine this singular focus

among too many focused

is what

love must feel like

i lose her in the crowd

while warming my head again

with cotton that once used

to grow

*

what does it take to write a poem

besides the joint suicide pact

of two

who have decided to spend their tiny time

in admittedly confusing ways

in ways that move away from the others

who will repeat

sometimes like a burp

that

this life is this life

and you should not squander it

on nothing

but

empty space separates

and you continue on

dying inside

dying outside

dying, aside