for Mark Fox

         My memory wears one shoe
         A tornado swallowed whatever it greeted
         In silhouette it appears an open mouth
         Hungry as an empty stomach it fed
         Limping a kind of stuttering
         Shapely and swollen
         Any any kind of stutter
         as any kind of stomach
         Was it a hungry tornado? Yes
         I remember fits and starts
         It moved across the land
         of fights and struggles
         The twister went leaping into the sky
         a balancing act of tempestuous love
         It flew!
         My memory is flying away

         My memory is bound with a spur
         Fires came plunging through the funnel
         It ties itself in a single lace
         The tornado twisted with passion
         It laces itself in stitches
         And it laughed to burn itself
         and slips into a face
         and slipped into place
         back on the earth. Ground
         I remember that spur in the flesh
         It was a fiery dance
         Causing me to jump
         The world it touched whirled into smoke
         and I’m running running
         Up up up
         My memory runs out

         My stomach twists to think about it
         My shoes had the longest memory
         I am a witness to some kind of passion
         They fit me through the hardest years
         that keeps me empty and hungry
         They were feather pillows
         They were soft, private flesh
         Hold me
         My shoes defined me, kept me
         I lie on my belly applying pressure as food
         Am I undone by my own passions

         Didn’t they remember for me where I had been
         My shoes looked back
         I feel wild and nervous
         I saw what they saw

         The pattern rips along the muscle grain
         But memory never protected me
         Organs billow—expand and contract
         I walked through the years like danger
         I remain hungry for physiology
         I was a daredevil
         My feet were blistered raw
         Warm me
         My shoes kept me progressing
         My passion is private and lonely
         What is my body asking for
         Suddenly the ground fell out from below me
         My shoes looked down
         I am wild and nervous
         I felt what they felt

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