Kid Courageous. All these they were safe when I closed the book.
Safe within their pages, so I could remember their names.
Yesterday and today and tomorrow was always known,
always the same. And my mother kept giving me books on kids
running away… junior, PG, Sallingers.
In Chemistry Class I knew a girl for a year when one
day I was behind her and realized I had never known
her name, not just forgot. It was just that I was keeping them private
away from permission where they could always stay.
My school never told my family that they were teaching
me French and Italian. They never asked for permission
from them. They taught me jazz guitar, piano and trumpet.
It was rehab for a hit to the front left cortex.
But all my memories like names are gone.
Set aside in a book that was never written
that had no front or back cover. And somewhere back in the past
in the silence is a mischievous version of myself
waiting for me to figure it out. Wanting me to remember him
and how it was for him to go through learning these things.
September 