At the Edge of Forget

WAITING IN THE STREET AT THE EDGE OF FORGET

In the fog of the day

waiting for the coffee shop to open

and all my best lines

crowd the waiting room

of forget

forgot my journal

and don't even have a pen

for a napkin poem

the future is out there in the fog

what I know is in the past

of uncertain memory

waiting for the Rolodex

to spin and spit out the name

or word at an inappropriate time

and burn off the present fog

into a sunny day

while I while the day away

in the waiting room of forget

JWL © 02/01/2016