We are in the future now.

In the past yesterday
is tomorrow, but some of
us didn't notice.
We subdivided dreams
into half gram
servings so they wouldn't
end.  We
concentrated those into
the smallest possible dose
so we could savor every
morsel, taste every drop
of our life's Kool-Aid.
We lived sugar-free
to enhance the sweet,
and then ignored all of it.
We wrapped our fists around
excitement and squeezed its
juice out dry to ****
adrenaline cravings.

i have read enough Rimbaud
to see the symbolism.

i have read enough Hudgins
to know i, too, used to be sure.

i have read enough Petrosky
to sympathize...
       Look, i'm a bear now, too!

i was wasted enough on land
for Eliot,
as fractured as cummings,
as subversive as Ginsberg,

but in the end i settled for breathing.

**DAS SOFA KING,
VICTORIOUS AT LAST.

He's forgetful-
He forgets where he put his shoes,
Or where he set down his sunglasses.

He forgets our plans at times,
He forgets what time we were
Supposed to meet, sometimes where.

He forgets that he has a little piece of food
On the corner of his mouth,
And he won't notice until I mention it.

He forgets his shifts at work,
And sometimes even forgets to take
A picture of his schedule in the first place.

He forgets some of the stories I tell him,
Maybe because I tell so many-
Regardless, he's forgotten a few here and there.

His forgetfulness drives me crazy,
Considering I won't forget how
Maddening this tendency is-

Him forgetting plans and times
And dates and places and where
He placed an item is indeed irksome at times.

But he never forgets to tell me goodnight.
He always turns over his shoulder and says
Goodnight earnestly, genuinely.

He never forgot about the time we drove
Around in the back of a truck,
When we drove along a windy road and

We laughed and locked eyes.
It was then that I decided
I didn't want to ever forget who he was.

He didn't forget that I love
Dark chocolate and letters,
That I love the little things.

He won't forget how much I love music,
And how I'd more than willing attend
Just about any concert with him.

He never forgets about the
Particular blanket I like the most
When we hole up at home and watch TV for hours.

Sometimes he doesn't forget my stories,
And is sure to remind me
When I start telling one twice.

He never forgets to grab my hand
When it's idly by my side;
He never forgets to squeeze my hand before letting go.

He never forgets to tell me good night,
He never forgets to tell me he cares,
He never forgets to tell me I'm beautiful.

He never forgets what's really important,
And neither do I,
So I forget about his forgetfulness.

Rather, I remember that his forgetfulness
Is so trivial in the grand scheme of things,
And though he is forgetful,

*He's never once forgotten to say good night.