my eyes held captive by the metamorphosis of the Cecil a born again building with the stench of human history between its concrete bones no longer a child not yet at the biological end the choices i’ve made dumbfound the soul but if viewed through a lens in the night that i’m alive is sheer bewilderment in the hustle of her of him of them i silently record fragments of life that are not my own if i do it long enough my old memories will be pushed out a tender girl walking her pink bellied pug is a better replacement for watching the forensics team rip open the rape kit or a child chasing a moth is better than being reminded of the day your mother died or when lovers kiss by the stop light is better than when the needle broke in the arm then my pupils chose to focus on a single mossy brick Artie in the 40’s swinging clarinets booze loosed women and ripoff con men coca cola lollipops the book says a time to laugh or cry to live or die the last is nonnegotiable