Throw the words
Onto the table
I am so frenzied
As I whirr
Among my cellmates
Pinot Grigio, Marlboro
And, of course
A scattering of past selves
That claim
Their right
To certain memories.

I leave my memories behind
Or still I try,
And it's so hard
I am out of control
Spinning through
A mind brim-full
Of Warsaw uprisings, holocausts, Kolyma
And Vorkuta, obsession and
Above all
A mind that loses itself
At night, I have
No right to expect control
Of my helplessly flailing arms
And yet tender
I hate what I am doing
When I look inside
And I know my self-obsession
Is inexcusable,
And raping
That I hold dear