the old puzzles are the fun ones

there’s a whole night
gone missing from
February ’97,
the night Dahlia
served the buybacks
three deep,
and one with
a Mickey Finn
flourish.

there’s a whole night
gone missing

from the bowels of an
otherwise safe and
measured winter,
and I recall in flashes
wanting to confront
an old foe
for an offense
I can’t remember,

but finding you instead,
me screaming
NAW  MAN
NAW YOU’RE
MY BROTHER!

And brothers are made
by such things
are they not?
-screaming, burning
in the post-midnight
street and glow,
wanting
the more
the next
the better.

there’s this whole damn
night gone missing,
the robbed remnants
of what should have been
an early exam night,

and these  twenty years on,
I still look for it,
grasping at it
in the broken shards
of a mirror
or a song on
the jukebox
too loud
and just beyond
my placing it.

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