I spend more time than is good for me
in memories.
and when I'm almost broke
which is more often than not,
time
lays a ten spot on me,
a dime for a memory which is the
crime of the century.

but I am crushed by the monotony
of a living that brings only agony,
will I
store that away in my memory?
probably.

I surface but still underneath the
falling stars
I grit my teeth
( the council grits the streets)
the second breath always tastes the best
the rest comes naturally
and that's all done by memory
like the sun rising daily
above a foreign sea

will anyone remember me
that way
when
I can't remember what day this is?

It changes
but that's gentrification or
genetically modified brain
starvation

I'm lucky if I get a cup of tea
and the occasional crumpet
(and that's not me blowing my
own trumpet)
it really is a crumpet
hot and buttered.

Thursday all the way today
I
should celebrate some way,
but
I'll probably stay in bed
counting dimes.