pioneertown.

I fail commas - always missing one
in a string of many, forgetting
to pause, running on, grouping
together things which do not belong
like the yellow white and red umbrella
I forget that is I forgot that is I left it
somewhere, and also I can’t remember
what colors exactly the flowers inside
its panels were, but among my many
odd memories are other flowers I cannot
place, which glow like yellow highlighter
over one word in my mind - azalea.

If we sit together in the wild spring night,
I’m probably going to later misattribute
something you say to someone famous,
Eleanor Roosevelt, probably. I love her, too.
I may even leave off half sentence,
rudely rapt, interrupt myself, say only Look, look!