ACCOUNT OF MY DAYS
Sequence: 4
POEM ENDING WITH WHAT I JUST ATE
record the seasons
record the trace of light across your thoughts
record the way a face becomes a fact
record breakfast the ditches a doorway
record what you have time for
don't worry about the excluded mass
of sensations objects memories feelings
flying digging swimming creatures
some unmentioned star some forgotten act
this mass is in its own unsaid poem
so abstract that it only touches
the edge of your thoughts
as you pick up your bowl of oatmeal