[Verse:]

He was much older than his age would allow

Up to his neck in bookshit and bulky filmstrips

His feet-first physique easily mistaken for

The head-heavy Lit major

Like a self-rolling pullman overstuffed with dead men's clothing

He Unicycled through a series of sideline jobs

No professional work properly suited 'n tied him

Although he always did find himself available for the city

Volunteering to vacuum walkways in the thicker lived parts

One often forgets to re-comb through

(Of course his wrist's clock was soft like surreal paint)

That's how we met and couldn't keep him frame chained

A flashlight snipped through an embracing loop hole

When one spends the latching evening dragging along

Electrical sidewalks she is doubtlessly startled by a cross stitcher's drift

He weaved through home fueled cars from street to street

With the magnified mirrored resistance in which

I dodged each strolling boomerang, altogether I unpacked my eyes

Like the first two squished cigarettes in a quitter's just-in-jewel case

And gathered him in a contracting camera lens

This is how I remember him, in a strand of flashes

Read like a spiraling worm nourished filmstrip

He sometimes covered his mouth when he laughed

As if blocking some pre-elasticized truth

We were all tiptoeingly stretching for

And I often focused in on his hands to try to find symbols in

What was left of the earthworm prints

They changed with the sun's debut and death again by curtain close

The unravelling reruns of an amending picture show

I'd love to thrust up from the ground and float with lamppost light

But can't hold a closed fist and often catch a thread held tail

To lighten myself with, but it's lead by another grip

And find that a full hand's not always so thick