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Certainly an oak, a squirrel is exactly not right
For they are about me
The great rivers, the endless ocean are about me
The one thing that has decidedly forgotten me:
my mother
sitting in nylons
straight tweed skirt
she has no thought that relates to her daughter
This has never been a poem
This is an old loose tooth in a gummy mouth
Look, mommy, I say
The palm tree has tilted toward me
The giraffe bends its head to my hand of peanuts
She stares into empty space
Void, I whisper, tell her about me,
she will listen to you
I continue to search: stones are mine, old breezes,
screen doors, bread, sand, cashiers in groceries
If I continue long enough, I’ll go to the end of the earth
The Chinese will give me tea and say forget it
That one thing that is not yours
Will give you your life
∞