2009
10.13
10.13
There are things you think you will forget
until they sneak up on you
like thieves to steal your best-hidden pearls of sanity
or your well-guarded mint-condition porcelain doll stability.
There are pieces of the heart that aren’t completely burnt,
but my god, we must tear them down and demolish the place;
leave you gasping for a while,
until the whole right side of the street is filled with new condos
in colors like mustard and brick red.
There used to be that nice place that still sold Lucky Strikes.