new poem

I Remember (Brainard Tribute)

Mostly, I remember drinking
myself bloody, falling
from the flatbed as you sped
off to another county.

I remember a flock
of tweakers approaching me,
then waking up in the grass
where lost pets drag themselves.

I remember you
through smudgy glasses
and a skull full of vices,
too pinned to leave Palmetto.

Do you remember me
looking younger last year?

I remember nothing.
Last year was a woman
quietly leaving the room
as I passed out.

I remember the first time
I took drugs was when
a deranged orthodontist named
Phyllis fed them to me.

I don't remember
third grade as much as
the doctor says I should,
but I remember

a girl named Sara,
whose anemia made her
bruised legs look like
those of a Dalmatian.

I remember shitting
myself at golf lessons.