of church groups and theatre events

digging holes in the beach sand every day

and every estranged family get-together

that one awkward cousin whose name you’ve forgotten

of other peoples living rooms, with their television setsand itchy knit blankets

and boxes and books on various landscapes of the country

every goddamn American Elementary School Classroom you’ve been inthey all smell the same

with lid rising desks that we’d scribble on

every hotel pool, and diving in with clothes on

out of laziness, out of the dares

those photographs of your parents

when they were happy once, far before youand every holiday you cashed lying in the grass
barefoot on those summer days

of childhood baseball