Lost

Something missing?
Something I’m supposed to do?
Can’t be sure
I seem to have forgotten
what it was
where it was
Like losing track of
how many laps I’ve swum
caught up in counting
strokes and making turns
dangling in the ganglia of
one-two-three-breathe-

Something I’ve lost
or something I’ve forgotten?
Like brushing my teeth or
rinsing the shampoo
out of my hair I keep
looking for it, wondering
what it looks like
or where I put it,
whichever comes first.
I suppose they mean well
but what the hell was I
looking for anyway?

Something about pushing a button
in the bunker every so often
the first thing to go
and the last thing to look for
where could it be? Hiding
under the stairs they’ll
never find me but
what if it’s somewhere else,
whatever it looks like,
supposing they find it first?
But what can they do to me
that hasn’t already been done?

Something like a shopping bag
fits over your head
secured with Velcro
I vaguely remember
the plastic tubing
from a hardware store
the gas grill refill somehow
connected but they
won’t let me near
the gas grill anymore
And a need for secrecy
can’t ask for help.

I know it was important
but where do you start
when you can’t remember
if it was something you forgot
like feeding the cat,
if the cat is still alive,
or something misplaced like
glasses hiding on your nose?
Just a fragment of imagination
drawn to the strangely familiar
red exit sign at the
end of the corridor.