Member Poem

some places

some places you don't remember much. like
sentences without punctuation marks, some
places are like poems unpunctuated, and like some places you don't remember don't want to remember much.

unlike prose bedecked, with correct punctuations and you remember every bit: the piano
she's sitting while you play Chopin in his tyricorn, the restaurant where she ordered iced tea and vinaigrette and you ordered a cup of coffee afraid your 500 won't cover every bit of the romantic magic you're in and she's out
six months after.

poetry tells differently, a place in a place
untreasured at first, a place in place
of something better though
can be remembered
so better not
to be marked.

Samantha
soft as february rain in a park i can't remember thinking of a dreamy something i don't know what whatever as i play a gangway chopin with his other self in a triumvirate with a greek god with the echoes wafting to a dusky sun the mermaids watching the sea a waltzy dream we kiss we part in november chopin now dead a new president waving crowd sketching yellow and an essay about the therapeutic wonders of poetry shouting in the dark a spectacle of serenades gone with it salad days drifting.

some places i have placed much treasured have unplaced much
marked,