trying to remember sense
ations like the feeling of
floor on shoe on foot on body
the small pounding: you
and the rest of everything
colliding.  small earthquake
little tremors tiny dancer 
and you want to know
about the significance of 
everything but really its 
heal to toe, heal to toe
healing to healing to healing 

the idea of being put away, a person, all of a
sudden like a canister of salt, shelf-ridden. a
hospital like the loneliest pantry, dusty corridors
of only lentils.  flour. peppercorns. and then a 
nurse comes, chasing the hollow.  the signs say
always wear gloves when handling toxins.  the 
people and the salt are no different.  they can
both kill you in high enough doses.  everyone
in their place.   order.  security.  rice.  pills.

The flies pleasantly made themselves a home
in the tbone steak you left out on the table,
wooden grain swelling with blood
slowly reddening, suddenly embarrassed,
You were long gone.  There was salt
and pepper, tipped- small piles like dirty
snow.  Just like that, a portrait of forgotten.

When the dogs come, they will tear it to shreds,
drunkenly shredding the infested thing.
Someone on the other side of town is playing
the spoons and humming an old tune.  
The mountains shrug, you're not the first

and everyone knows you won't be the last
in line to buy beer cans at the local deli.