White Jazz

All I have is the will to remember. Time revoked/fever dreams — I wake up reaching, afraid I’ll forget. Pictures keep the woman young.

L.A., fall 1958.

Newsprint: link the dots. Names, events — so brutal they beg to be connected. Years down — the story stays dispersed. The names are dead or too guilty to tell.

I’m old, afraid I’ll forget:

I killed innocent men.

I betrayed sacred oaths.

I reaped profit from horror.

Fever — that time burning. I want to go with the music — spin, fall with it.