Pantoum: given a key, you lose it
  — shifting your attention but staying in touch. 

I forget functioning ghost towns caked with tire tracks; 
I draw a blank on jailhouse interiors and decades of Tonka trucks... 

[...there is no outside [...] only what’s already here [what we breathe] below, which is 
Immature, impulsive...] [as above] 

— I forget empirical relationships the most, the visual force of 
                                       a “mottled taxonomy,” 

Complaints and sworn declarations, 
I forget missing you.