some places some places you don't remember much. like sentences without punctuation marks, some places are like poems unpunctuated, and like some places you don't remember don't want to remember much. unlike prose bedecked, with correct punctuations and you remember every bit: the piano she's sitting while you play Chopin in his tyricorn, the restaurant where she ordered iced tea and vinaigrette and you ordered a cup of coffee afraid your 500 won't cover every bit of the romantic magic you're in and she's out six months after. poetry tells differently, a place in a place untreasured at first, a place in place of something better though can be remembered so better not to be marked. Samantha soft as february rain in a park i can't remember thinking of a dreamy something i don't know what whatever as i play a gangway chopin with his other self in a triumvirate with a greek god with the echoes wafting to a dusky sun the mermaids watching the sea a waltzy dream we kiss we part in november chopin now dead a new president waving crowd sketching yellow and an essay about the therapeutic wonders of poetry shouting in the dark a spectacle of serenades gone with it salad days drifting. some places i have placed much treasured have unplaced much marked,