it is hard for the nostalgic to forgive. I was raised on awareness and reincarnation. I remember, doghouse, the dollmaker’s tornado. and how to clear for my drunkest brother a mousetrap from a mountain path. believing, as a hostage would, in the taker’s amnesia.

the japanese sings my song
you repeat the words
grab the bakery and run
you did your daily motion
to the upper side of park
have ride in the night
see  luminosity trembling
horizontally snowing
and other strange things
they fix the holes in the road
you woke up at noon
and have stop dreaming of me
stop dreaming me
i dissolve
everything's calm