ONE TOO MANY DETAILS
I guess I know what a shirt-size
is; those Christmasy things returned.
Growing up as I did, nothing was ever
right. 'It's too big, but I bought it big.
He'll grow into it.' Like a coffin.
-
These are shadow memories now,
all this matter that's fallen between
crevices. No one ever asked me,
'How confused are you?' Rather,
they just went on, as if I understood.
Meatballs and spaghetti on a
two o'clock Sunday table.
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