Everyone forgets
themselves sometimes.
Getting noddy noddy
to familiar music I
make music to go with,
beating the short bones of my fingers
against my desk until
I think better of it and beat
my knuckles against the cigarette
scorch marks
to a tune I have been hearing
in dreams. And I remember
who I am to the dirty drag percussion
coming hand, fingers knit, to hand
and the remembrance
makes me giggle
because the I in me and I
always waits for me at home,
but he knows there is no
take yourself to work day.
