Memories by Jerry D. Miley

I remember memories of awakening
with no memories:
I remember trying to forget:
never do I remember such hopeless
longing to stand up and do something
as in a Skid Row hotel room.
Two years covered up in cold
sheet warmth windows closed,
even the noise was cold,
and steam hissing like a snake
biting itself to sleep by mid-morning,
rattling dreams tossed
themselves a hot plate,
plugging in heat like a stopped-up sink
giving off floor water
when you turned it on:
plaster cracking sound of ancient pipe.
I am moving out of that hotel
to this day
my overlarge heavy white coat
with no buttons
is on my back by 9:30,
and I am waiting forever to go
back to sleep
because I cannot bare to stay awake
and this is human life
when I am waiting
not to be hungry.

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