shelter

memory means nothing
when you cannot remember
a time or a place
was it june or december
did the bed linens
rustle with angry love
did the morning come
with a forgiving blush
were you powerless once
in a snug cul de sac
did the houses get bigger
the rent out of whack
sure thing you recall
surviving a storm
was it strong was it cold
was it unseasonably warm
did you talk to your dog,
your plumbing, your stove
were you able to walk
and lookover the farm
did you make a meal
alone in the dark
was your chaos just yours
or the plank to the ark
were sturdy trees felled

and arguments quelled
did you lose a friend
and make one of another
is the blanket you pull
up to your bothersome chin
enough to silence
a gymnasium din
did you vote

did you argue
before the storm
was the lovemaking made
before you were worn
here is the meal
in a plastic pack
like soldiers eat

before they attack

there is your cot
don’t mind the shriek
he’s your neighbor now
walking angry and guarded
remember your life
before it was martyred
you were a child
you were a start
someone will listen
to your beating heart

Rev. nyc 3.23.20/11.7.12