Memory drove me to the edge of town
and told me to get out. I refused:
Never go to the second location. So we spent
another night on the highway at a tricked-out

speed of light, memory shaking me awake
with reflective signage, second sight,
pixellated nerve systems pretending
to be you. I was fleeing what comes next,

the second location of never again, when
memory escapes me and every place will look
the same—same median strips, power-lines,
frontage roads to chain store parking lots.

[From Confrontation 116]

 
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