Remembering

How Will I Remember You

You ask if I will remember you.
I answer Rockefeller Double Feature, Westwood 2:00 AM
grape jam fired through straws - splashes of
purple silliness and dinner rolls in a juggling act.

You ask when will you enter my mind.
I answer Down in the Depths of the 90th floor
on black and white with P. T. Barnum Up In One
and the Musicians Union on Wednesdays

You ask when I will echo your words
I answer, "My lover, my associate, but most
of all my friend" with "Zuckys #6 heavy on the
egg salad, skip the onions plus an egg cream"

You ask if there is an empty space in my life.
I answer Mars on fire in a nightime sky, mist
rising off the pool, typing dressed in only a
towel words to wrap tomorrow's fish.

You ask when I will say your name.
I answer California Dreamin', the Chinese
Air Force in the middle of the night -
Cryptic instances that delineate a life

And stories I will tell until
MY dying day