Coffee, keys, window.

New Year's Eve in

Scottsdale

up here in my room watching

the street beyond the

crest of this machine

A room with a desk

and a bed

44 years of life

unfolding

across the page

44 years of days and the rest

insomnia here

in the richlands

watching death usurping

life

feeling the years

crawl over

the arms

the shoulders

the skin of flies

1970 warping into here

placenta laid out,

frozen and blown to dust

44 years ago

divided now by ink ribbon blood and skin

divided by

cells and makeup of liquid and solids

44 years back from now

born into dirt.