My elephantine memory? A bathtub
with lukewarm water and a duck.
Cheap diversion floats along until I’d rather
loose the info. Then the silencing is
fathomless for a past
untenable. I, naked God, after all
these years only lack a
large audience. Turn on the hot and cold
of dream and fantasy – nobody is watching.
Water runs away. Foam implodes. Dry me
with a towel of shining shame.
Shall I chatter prancing in a hollow room?