The False and Fancy Recollection of 1959

Blacking out was a fantasy of mine

all of these synapses needed a break from me

perhaps they were as smothered as I was,

by my own timidities

by all these reveries of starry nights

and neighborhoods that only belonged to memory and the history of geography now

my cortex was in a vortex,

and I couldn't say I blamed it

I had too many dreams about gymnasiums

and boys asking for my hand,

instead of the other way around

I laid the pipe,

there were no disputes about that

but these fancies,

these ambitions

were too busy for me,

off in the sky somewhere

scraping---