Cookie, Enclosed by Squares And rectangles, Wooden coffins lowered into the dirt, Father, brother Hard heads, block heads. Locked doors. Four corners, and a glossy linoleum floor, Splashes of hot chocolate, Bounced marshmallows Mental patients clutched sloshing cups. Window of a white car, night blowing in, a man at the wheel, passenger with dark shoulders, sand dunes were tombstones, sporadic teeth in the roaring maw of the Atlantic. Little Richard on the radio, A typewriter and a burning cigarette, photographs piled on a coffee table, sticky layers, hardened into a single square mass. Fucking Hell, Richard spilled a coke. Tenement window, city stifled by skyscrapers, a clatter in the turning fan, a stoning, no, Vittorio, and a palmful of pebbles. You rescue the cheetah, old, already dead, from a dumpster in alphabet city, A door prize under the theater seat, A calculator, name of a defunct bank in block letters, metallic gold, an embossed vault. You’re the winner, and John Waters loves your coat. Television, The squared jaw of a man who never met you. He has written an article. He spoke to someone who knew your mother. Memory is a monolith.