Echoes

ECHO I

return me
to my day
and that which

makes a matter
whole; makes
marvelous
the memory
alone
and the turn
towards
this that looks
back.

ECHO II

Since I
can’t
remember



all that I used to

I better just

sit



and remember



what I can.


ECHO III

I remember times in the car.

The way the scenery would change at every moment, the excitement of what was around the corner, about to come. I remember hearing conversations in the car, about things the person and I would want to talk about, and how by being in a car made them somehow more important, special. I remember blowjobs in the car and sleeping girls in the back seat. I remember reading “On The Road” and thinking it was the shit, and then quite quickly thinking otherwise. I remember listening to the “Footloose” soundtrack on the way to Seattle, skipping school to do so. I remember the flying fish we saw once we got there. I remember listening to ABBA on my way to Canada to drink and fuck boys when I was 19. I remember sticking my arm out the window on the highway and feeling the breeze and knowing it wouldn’t last long. I remember park cars in far-away fields where we’d fuck worrying about the lights that would turn on and off. The way your skirt would get stuck on the gear shift sometimes. I remember driving back home after the car was broken into, in winter, and the way the feel of the freeze made me drive faster, wanting nothing more than the embarrassing embrace of family once again after leaving for the first time. I remember learning how to drive stick, and how I made Carmel drive it for me, getting in the drivers seat once we turned the corner so my parents couldn’t see. I remember hearing the “Gypsy” soundtrack on the way to a birthday dinner, someplace a 10 year old could get escargot. I remember going there and the walk in the parking lot. I remember driving along the coast of California and thinking how I would never want to do it again. I remember other people driving me along the coast of California and then fighting about parking. I remember driving across the US, and my mother warning me about such a long time stuck in one place with one person, with nowhere to go but straight ahead. I remember the speeding ticket I put on her credit card. I remember a homeless person breaking into my car to sleep and leaving the heat on so I was toasty when I got in in the morning. I remember driving to school, even though I lived so close, and parking along the residential area, the area we used to go to smoke pot on lunch break, and the joy and confusion when I was able to park in the school lot proper.

It was closer to class, but you couldn’t smoke pot there.



ECHO IV

Could a person
be the thought
that’s thought
of as
you?

I want to hope so.

I do.


ECHO V

It’s best
to love
when you

can.