Cities and suburbs, real and imaginary.

Sunday, August 2, 2020

Sonnet #318

They’ll remember how you make them feel

Of course. They’ll remember what they think
Happened where the feeling cleans the sink
And washes dishes in it. The feeling peels
The dust back from the fans and spins the room
The feeling moves the furniture around
To dance the shadows properly and sounds
A lot like what happened, I guess, except the boom
Of it is all the work of feeling; Since feeling is first
Who cares to argue with it? Primary sources
Always seem the most reliable even when the worst
Source is the first source, and it pours and pours
All over the palace of memory, shouting and laughing
At the end of our life, the doors close with feeling

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