Why should I want to return
to a time where even when I occupied that time
I wanted to go back to another time

Up till three reading zombie
comic books, I wake to video- 
game first-person shooters

My grandmother had eight children,
one of them twice.

The first Olga lived
a mere month,

succeeded by my mother,
the second Olga,

In Regent’s Park the cleanup’s incomplete.
Though weeks have passed, it seems it’s still occurring.
You drive. We talk. Ambition is a theme.

I predict, like the one who was sucked to sea 
and returned in an Arabian container ship, 
all small worlds will be dashed and drowned. 

We trapped him—
the dignified male
with the graceful neck—

The duck dead and gutted,
we walk the vaulted cavity
to the heart; large,

After she pieced together what was done to her,
And he too realized what was done to him,
With reaching hands they feel their fingers

Each time my mind comes back to it, the reasons 
You gave me seem less substantial than before, to advance
Always less promise of an explanation

As if your half-witted tongue
Spoke with an eloquence
Death bestows, I heard your voice