He was going to look up memory
in six different languages.
He was going to puddle hop on jet liners
from country to country
and find the
best dictionaries they had.
He made a list of the countries
to put in his fire-proof safe
with his other lists.
He gave the tumblers a spin
and then cursed as the combination
went into meltdown.
Now he needed a locksmith.
He whipped out the phone book
and thumbed thru
the yellow pages.
He stopped at hair stylists
and ran his fingers through his hair.
Was this what he needed?


He went out on the porch
and rolled a near-perfect cigarette.
It was autumn.
He had a son somewhere,
but he wasn’t sure how old he was.
40? 45?
Maybe it wasn’t a son,
maybe it was a daughter.


Vaguely it crossed his mind
that he might need help,
but the moment passed.


He fixed on a single leaf
spinning to the ground
and followed it all the way down.

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