In The Order In Which They Were Written

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I'm writing a book

So are you, and he, and she

The book of our lives

The hat on the desk

Made an impression on me

And still it remains

My Chasidic rebbe's hat

Between us back in high school

What is that saying

About playing with fire?

I can't remem - ouch

As we live, we mourn

Separate from one another

And so we might die

The five syllables

Like the seven syllables

Are not key. And yet.

It's impossible

To walk while you are driving

And perhaps to think

Why am I afraid

To go to sleep, to wake up

To write this poem?

We categorize

Stitch random threads together

Each in our own way

I sit on a bus

On Yellowstone Boulevard

My life waves hello

The youth took a nap

When he awoke he was old

Youth became him

Me? I've been thinking

I've been thinking of my smile

Wonder how she is

We're not so different

Married, single; with battle

Six/half a dozen