I rinsed my face and wished to be rid of it.

Also cell phone towers, sad endings,

dickheads, and the rich. This memory

and the one just now replacing it.

This recurring tomorrow.

Also certain types of facial hair,

authority, remaining calm, learning

about what you’re missing.

This summer was one of various scenarios:

constant lawn mowing, recorded dance music,

useless and wounded negotiation like a diary.

Also addresses carried away.

Also they have their own minds.

When I learned what I inherited—

a poor navigational device—

I didn’t like it. I loved it.

When I stepped back I saw my grandfather

lure a cow from a burning blue barn

and how little he said, our numbers decreasing.

Also how large our heads were,

how angry our village.

I saw the sky too

a habit we already miss.