The memories have always been there
I never observed

When work matters dominated
my world order

The thought of one low-level bully
Repeatedly appeared

Guiding me slowly to the self-
referential argument.  Never decided.

Where did my mind cling
While I reverently shaved?

Infrequently, did I nick my phyllo flesh
And blame the dough roller razor in my hand

While the hell of razor-leaved tree-
Jungles surrounded my mind

But now
Now a torrent of important memories
Tied to love and loss
Yearning

Bake the leavened dough
Of my empty existence