Yesterday evening -
possibly after eleven:eleven,
all of my memories were having a small gathering --
With rosé-punch, fortune cookies and lemonade,
upstairs, in the attic of my mind.
''go on, dear, go on,
This the artery and this is the vein,
go on, dearest, go on, and on,
'til you reach the last door on the left -
then all you'll have to do is
go up, just one more floor, 'til you hit the party !''
whilst a recollection of fellow drunken memories
disturbed this body's lackadaisical stillness -
I am your First Man -
from among many...''