Here we are:

imagining the past

and drinking in lots

a lot of memories but no grasp

and don't forget? Memories implanted. Memories. 

There's not a joke

but a trip in it. A trip to pick yourself up from with skinned knees

and swearing in the cross walk.

Numb enough for that, uh,

memory

to embarass.

(Photo, I think, by Betsy Husband)