Datsy

Object permanence 

My relation to things

Objects 

Be one 

A sense of self

The stop sign 

And corner-store bench 

And things

Initially 

Outside of me become

Me 

within

For a few unplanned years 

Roaming these streets 

Back and forth 

work, store, work, 

Up down left right

Break up, break downs

And night terrors

Of loneliness and

Superbowl parties 

And the final 

what seems-to-be-my end game 

and suddenly

To pass on to the other side

and survive 

for another year

These local markings

Become familiar intimate friends

That hold me 

A sense of self 

becomes a place 

And place the self

Bound and marked 

By things and people 

Friend and buildings

And trees and 

Random street signs 

That seem to hold way too much meaning

Gives me meaning, purpose

Paper moons of

paper grocery bags

What becomes of me 

Or them 

When I move on to the next town 

Streets signs and mail boxes 

And fences 

And repeat it all again