when dementia begins: almost makes sense like hamburger translations

when dementia begins: almost makes sense like hamburger translations
or the poems the body writes in its dysentery: explosions at either end
and vile

my mind has many homes these days. I have seen much of kitchen tile
much of the great round bowls. in doorways I lose
the heartbeat of decisions

me is no comfort place to be these days. hang teeth and smiles
in the windows
and fiddle fiddle with the thermostat. but the mind don't stay:
away to the mall

let the lookylous look: rupt rush re so re bo re we re wa re you reat reali reall
see streets of a lost city: the lights beyond keep blinking how yet how yet
hows