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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