ACCOUNT OF MY DAYS
Sequence: 4
WORDS I CANNOT UNDERSTAND
bad traffic on the way to
the house of the quote wrong lesbian
that distant part of me
reaches for an inward map
torn to scraps and scattered
in hope of a more brilliant journey
(went away on its knees
carrying the past in its mouth
on its back a can of gasoline
to burn memory to its elements
of pure surprise)
this metal in my hand--
will it spend like money
or cut my palm
I am a circle tossed on the ground
to roll as long as the others
a crowded world and no place
to receive visitors