90 (p.)

He's excited that he worked.
Carried pieces of steel, pieces 
of metal, mostly in a plastic bucket
(I couldn't make), mostly 
on a handtruck (I couldn't make)
down stairs, etc. etc. hallway 
wheel-bin elevator the little lights 
for the elevator gone. 

I know less about Numeranio's childhood 
than Linda has hours to count favorites 
with me... with you... with anyone. 

the clouds of a 2AM sky squeeze 
raw 
dreams 
like the juice of pain, itself 
like the hallowed light of pain, itself. 

your name, quietly spoken. 

Grandpa Bob had an aneurysm in '93, when 
I was about 10. My father had his last heartattack 
in 2014. both about 70. -- I'm 43, now. Want 90. 




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