some remembrances are no longer useful
slide down the back road to the rock on the cul-de-sac's edge
the dirt path forking around both sides
i always used to think the side i chose gave the day its shape
up through the trees and near the reindeer farm
how i would get spit out onto pavement again
right next to your house
staying on streets would have stretched the journey out by miles
i remember how

or a list of spots for roof access
where i could take kissers or
those whose youth i wished to crow
and
earlier
chants of victory poolside
the order in which she'd pick up our vegetables
the hot touch of plastic seats
the scantron's roving eye

small deaths refusing to be integrated
you looks so young - i've been born so many times
after the incidents down by the back board and the lunch table
chain-link passageways and alleys turned driveways
the hard champagne sun