Remember?
Soft black t-shirts and
the Gasoline Witch?

Remember?
Scrape-scrape-scrape
polishing short zippered boots
Scrape-scrape-scrape
smoothing soapy cheeks
Scrape-scrape-scrape
shining the wok that was
caked with dark sweet remnants of
spaghetti sauce?

And remember some you’d rather not
Come Here Your Not Here Yet
how cheeks can also sting
with tears and toughen from the redness
that burns when they are slapped?

This poem can not be long enough,
It requires all the time that I have

Spent already,
and this day
his longest day
today I know for certain
that there just isn’t any
more.