A Wooden Chair Before me;

each leg unequal in length

and the length of my breath could

revive as

many dead as

alive.

My date of Birth.

Important Numbers.

Meaningful Memories tossed carelessly

into the unoccupied Cubby of Air

I've been Staring at for a Century now.

It's Listening, though,

and It's feedback is Juxtaposed

with Every Delicate Action

performed within

Firey, Diabolic braincases

consisting of

bone and bone

and bone (is what they consist of)

Im Sobbing Now,

and searching...

Searching the Junk Drawers

for An unknown gadget that

was known about a minute ago.

Oh, It's attached to me.

Oh, It's Placed in my chest

keeping me alive.

Some

times

I

forget

Things.