Today,

Astoria is backwards.

The sirens come first.

I hear them.

The laughter is the birds

The rustling of chain feet people leash dog

Is the sound of construction in the distance and the

Sounds of the motor in the fridge spinning to a stop next comes

A lot of tiny birds.

Do you wonder why?

It always comes on

I’ve forgotten the words

First it comes on

Creeping slow

First it comes on

It’s two syllables

It’s not quietly it’s quiet

That doesn’t help at all but that’s that

I remembered on my own anyways

All the memories pour out my ears

Because often it’s all too much

The only thing in our universe that I only found one of

Was him.

I wonder when memories of hockey boy will start torturing me again unbidden following the pattern

Of the masterpiece backwards.

Why do sirens precede Masterpiece Theatre

And follow

Astoria?

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